Breaking the Hourglass
by redcristal
Summary: Christmas Fluff chapter. Merry Christmas to you all! Some become family by blood; some by bond forged in fire, some by choice and friendships some by magic and some. This is how Tara, Spike, Wesley, Aggie, Amy, Oz, Connor and Buffy become a family and spent their first Christmas together.
1. Chapter 1

**Breaking the Hourglass**

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any characters from Angel or Buffy; they are property of their respective owners. In fact no character in this fic belongs to me; the full reel of who belongs where will be posted below.

 **Mists of Avalon** –belong to **Marion Zimmer Bradley.** Mostly names and some of the lore. This is also blended with others.

 **A Rose in Winter** – written by **Kathleen E. Woodiwiss,** I'm tying this with Haloween episode.

 **Mist of Avalon TV miniseries** \- Produced by American cable channel TNT, adapted by Gavin Scott, and directed by Uli Edel the series is a retelling of the Arthurian legend with an emphasis on the perspectives of Morgan le Fay and other women of the tale.

 **Swan Maiden** – belongs to Jules Watson

 **Merlin (2008 TV Series)** – television programme created by Julian Jones, Jake Michie, Julian Murphy, and Johnny Capps

 **Swan Princess** – is a 1994 American animated musical fantasy film based on the ballet "Swan Lake". Directed by Jared F. Brown, Richard Rich

 **Twilight series** by Sergei Lukyanenko and

 **EnergyBeing** post on TTH Forums, topic about "How does Magic work in Buffy verse".

 _Troll_ 's from **Frozen** –belongs to Disney.

 _Will O' the Wisps_ are minor characters from the 2012 Disney/Pixar animated film, **Brave**.

 _I also borrowed some from_ :

-Stories my grandparents told me. Norse, Irish, Celtic, Welsh Myths and Legends.

Of hand nods in the form of lines from: InuYasha, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, The Mummy, W.I.T.C.H., Black Cat from Spiderman comics. Avatar the Last Airbender.

 **Chapters/Characters point of views** : Tara Maclay, Spike, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Agnes Bellfleur, nicknamed Aggie and Lorne.

 **Lines from Episodes that were used:**

Buffy the Vampire Slayer – Phases, The Gift, Bargaining (1&2), Flooded, Help, Afterlife, Floded, Tabula Rasa, Smashed, Wrecked, Gone, As you Were, Seeing Red

Angel – I Will Remember you, Offspring, Quickening, Dad, Birthday, Provider, Waiting in the Wings, Couplet, Loyalty and Sleep Tight.

 _"Dawn listen to me. Listen. I love you._

 _I'll always love you. But this is the work_

 _I have to do. Tell Giles I... I figured it_

 _out. And I'm okay. Give my love to my_

 _friends. You have to take care of them_

 _now - you have to take care of each_

 _other. You have to be strong. Dawn._

 _The hardest thing in this world is to_

 _live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."_

 _Buffy – The Gift, Buffy the Vampire Slayer_

* * *

 **Tara Maclay: Empty Places, Shallow Graves**

 **Sunnydale; Day – May 2001**

* * *

She is lost, lost in her own mind.

Trapped, locked inside with no way out, ever since Glory took from her, her own mind energy.

Tara never imagined the pain when the Hell goddess's hands griped her head and sucked something out of her, and then Tara was trapped in her own mind, and she could feel the part that was stolen by the goddess, feel Glory's madness seep into her own head. It hurt, like a thousand little needles poking Tara at the same time.

It was painful and she could only watch; like an outsider in her own body. Detached.

Only the helpless observer that was possessing the shell, but unable to take control, only there was no other soul occupying her body but her own.

She was just not there. She didn't feel anything physical either. Not the cuts or the rope binding her or Willow's hand stroking her hair.

"Tara … baby, is there somewhere you should be?" Willow asks gently, while tugging the ropes free.

'Why is Willow doing this,' Tara asks herself, not that herself noticed her free hands or that Buffy, Giles, Spike, and Xander are standing by the doors.

"They held me down …" she hears her own voice say; it is oh so strange when she doesn't feel her own mouth move or her eyes blink.

Her mom was correct when she said, 'You don't know how important little things we take for granted are, until they're taken away.'

"Nobody is holding you. It's the big day, right? Do you want to go?" she hears Willow's voice; it was funny, Tara thinks, how soft and sweet Willow's voice is, like a breeze in the willow branches.

Losing all ability to use her body upgraded her ability to perceive reality. That part was the only highlight in this experience as far as Tara was concerned. She feels herself look around and standing up. She sees Giles from the corner of her eye. Her body feels a pull that surprises her, she feels her lips part as her hand points at Mr. Giles.

"You're a killer, it's all put down …" her voice is bitter, jaded; she is surprised at the bitter taste of those words. Why did she say that … no, she muses as her body moves away and out of the shop, like some sort of sleep walking person, only she is awake, but powerless in her own body. Giles has an unmistakable swirl of wrathful red around him; he will kill somebody today.

Tara just hopes for his sake, for Buffy's sake, that it is not Dawn who he plans to kill. She had perceived really strong mystical bonds tethering Buffy and Dawn together, coercing the Slayer into protecting her blood that transcended those of family members.

She is sure that it is connected to Dawn being The Key. She also hopes that Dawn will lose that aspect of herself after the time limit for using The Key passes. Tara fervently hopes that no lives of her friends, family really, won't be lost today.

Because the Scoobies became a family to her. Willow is her lover, that is true, so it doesn't really feel like a real family should, but Joyce had the same feeling as Tara's own mother, Tamara, had. Joyce was like a mother to them all; Mr. Giles has that feeling of an uncle, and Xander like a cousin of sorts with his funky girlfriend Anya.

But Buffy and Dawn, Tara would never tell them this, but she views both of them as her sisters. That feeling started when Buffy said to her father, brother, and cousin that Tara is family.

It resonated in Tara as something that fitted. She never felt so a part of a family before as she did in that moment. Not only friends, they are family.

Tara can feel Willow following her; she could always recognize Willow's magical signature, now more than ever. Tara would blush if she could, when she remembers that this particular ability manifested when they were intimate for the first time.

But Tara is glad that her family came up with a plan to save the world, to set her loose and let her lead them to where ever her body leads. After all The Body expresses a lot of anxiety to be somewhere to get to someone.

To Glory, Tara thinks as she retreats back, she can't influence her body anyway …. She might as well think on the thought she had about her experience; she remembers that her mom once told her of a belief that humans consist of five forces, which consisted of the forces of nature.

This was before Tamara got so sick that she could not talk any more, Tara was ten years old at the time. When her mother had no strength left she lapsed into sleep and then seven years later she passed away.

Her father often said that it was the demon blood in her that acted up like that. That it was killing her, making her sleep all the time. Tara believed what the rest of her family was telling her, all of that, truly, after all her mother was unable to tell her daughter that that was not the case. It was only later when she enrolled in UC Sunnydale that Tara found out the truth.

But now the memories are crystal clear to Tara; she can almost hear her mother's voice telling her that:

 _Water_ represents the mind energy of a human because water by nature is very changeable; it can be in vapor form or liquid or solid. Tara supposed that Glory feed on that, it would explain why all her victims are acting so crazy.

"You can't stop in the same running water twice," Tamara said before she lapsed into the coma. "No story that is told from mouth to mouth is the same as the previous retelling," she also said, Tara remembers. She also remembers the reason why Tamara got sick, and she was partly relieved that her father had nothing to do with it.

It was just Tamara's time, and she wanted to ensure that Tara herself would live independently from the Maclay family.

 _Earth_ represents a body. "Our bodies are born of the Earth, and to earth we return," her mother's voice floated around Tara. "Our bodies gave life to others, and other bodies gave life to ours. Death and birth."

It made sense now, Tara also supposed as she mused that Water and Earth are connected, one can not exist without the other. That also means that Water and Earth are the only elements that vampires keep, while losing the other three and gaining the "soul" of the demon so to speak. Tara did not know if what demons have is called a soul by them. So the term will have to stay that way.

Unless of course Tara finds the right term for it.

 _Fire_ represents the beating heart and blood, the life force of a human. After all, fire and blood had a lot of similarities. They were red; they gave life; they could take life and there was no life without either.

And as Spike said "It's always about blood." Something that Tamara's words echoed. And there was also a warning, "Rituals and spells that involve blood are highly dangerous, and any practicing Wicca and/or Witch have to be extremely cautious while using them. Blood spells are the spells that are the most connected with Threefold Law."

 _Air_ represents the conscience or soul of a human, something that is indestructible, something that is very much like air itself. Something that should not be touched carelessly and for dark purposes or there is a rich of contamination.

Tara supposed that that was the reason why the phrase "Breathing life in" is in the existence. That made Tara wonder how an ensouled vampire had beard his existence, though knowing how curses worked, … Tara shuddered, those Gypsies were so blinded by their quest for vengeance, not revenge – those seeking revenge do not harm innocent bystanders, or bystanders that have nothing to do with actions of a person that the revenge is centered on.

That their eventual destruction was guaranteed the moment they cast that spell. Since the spell was used for dark purposes, to extract vengeance, to inflict pain – they contaminated themselves.

Willow cast her ensouling spell for Love. So there was no contamination, Thank The Goddess.

Quintessence or Aether, well Tara supposed, her experience now confirms its existence with great effect.

Night is coming, but Tara is not afraid. When she watches through her body's eyes, she knows, feels Willow behind her, and knows that Buffy and the others are close behind, knows that soon … 'oh,' she thinks when she catches sight of a metal tower, 'this is new.'

When she nears the place, she notices that tower is complete, though Glory's victims are still milling about gathering bricks, metal bars, and chains. Were they arming themselves, Tara thinks, it is a possibility as she also saw a couple of Glory's demonic minions armed with blades. She nears a pile, guessing that her body will grab something heavy as well; a hand stopping her is unexpected.

And considering that it's the Hellgoddess didn't calm Tara's inner panic one bit, since she did not know if Glory can see her.

Aether Her.

"You, what are you doing here?" Glory demands the answer eyeing her with suspicion. But a flash of red and Tara is instantly calm, she knows this red…

Then she feels the same sensation in her head; she can see Willow's hand on Glory's head, her red-headed lover's fingers sinking into the Hellgoddess' temple; Tara just knows that the same is happening to her.

"She is with me," Willow says, there is no waver in her voice, but a dead set dark seriousness that for a moment startles Tara, even when she feels a tug on herself, as a white, crackling energy bursts from Willow's hand, flowing from Glory's head, making Glory gasp in paralyzing pain. It travels along Willow's arms straight into Tara's head.

She can feel the crackling energy that wraps around her pulling, tugging … and then her vision whites out and everything snaps back in place.

"Tara? _Tara_!"

Somebody is calling her, who, who is it. And why is it so dark?

Oh her eyes are closed, why she is so tired, she thinks as she blinks awake. Willow's worried face greets her …

"Willow?" she whispers weakly, her voice cracks, like she hadn't been using it, why … oh right, she wasn't using it.

It probably takes a while for all five elements to align properly.

"Tara …" Willow trails off. She looks so lost, her red little tree, Tara thinks as her eyes well up with tears.

"Willow," her voice is stronger now, though she still feels like her body is on pins and needles. "I got so lost."

"I found you." Willow bends down to kiss her. "I'll always find you."

Tara wraps her arms around her, and Willow embraces her tightly in return.

"I knew you'd find a way to bring me home, thank you, Willow," Tara says, then freezes when she remembers where they are. Her gaze snaps upward just in time to see the energy ball as it grows.

Tara closes her eyes in mourning, Dawn's blood has been spilt, and they were too late; when she opens her eyes again the ball shoots out a lightning like tentacle of energy toward the town. She briefly hopes that it will not do too much damage.

"Willow, we have to go … can you stand? Willow!" her last words are concerned shouts as Willow crumbles back into a sitting position.

"I can't move yet," Willow says just as a bolt from the ball strikes a nearby building and transforming it into an alien looking structure. Tara shivers as she senses the beings inside, white faced, that she can see, are already crawling out of the holes, like termites.

And like termites, those creatures Tara sensed were never human in the first place. She wants to move, to help Buffy to stop … but Dawn … if the end of the world is to be stopped, the blood must stop flowing. And though she knows that Dawn wasn't real, she exists now; she is an innocent teenager, with dreams and a life of her own. She didn't even have a chance to live and Buffy …

Tara holds Willow tighter in their little huddle. Buffy will not kill Dawn, she'd rather kill … Tara's eyes widen in sudden realization … and she wonders, did Buffy know, realize … she probably did.

Just as she thinks that the energy ball that was expanding ominously until now suddenly contracts and then with a crack blinks out of existence.

Was it Dawn?

Or was it Buffy?

Tara doesn't know what would be worse. Both are terrible.

The world didn't end.

But they lost either way.

As the smoke begins to clear, Tara and Willow are leaning on each other; Tara sees Xander carrying Anya. Spike is stumbling over, and then falling on his knees, weeping. Mr. Giles is standing over Buffy's dead body at the foot of the tower built by crazy people. Still Tara is lucky; those poor people will not be getting their wits back like she did. Willow managed to extract her brain wave energy.

"Death is stupid. You plummet off a tower and, phfft, that's it. It's shocking and I don't like it," Tara hears Anya mutter, for a change Xander does not shush her for her comments; he is to numb to react.

Willow trembles for a bit, but Tara is watching Dawn, having climbed down from the tower wearing some sort of old styled dress, the furthest behind, the most alone.

"Even in high school she warned me: she told me she'd die young. I never believed her, until now," she hears Willow say so quietly. But she doesn't look at Willow; she is too distracted with watching Dawn.

Tara sucks in her breath when she sees Dawn explode in shower of green sparks that coalesced and seep into Buffy's dead body.

She shimmers green all over then there is an exploding light, so bright that all of them shield their eyes.

When Tara opens her eyes, could really… her eyes rested on her friend's body, which is shrinking, and glowing all over. When the light and shrinking subside instead of a dead body of a twenty something Slayer there is a live body of a little girl. Tara thinks that she looks about eight or really small eleven year old.

"Dear Lord," Tara hears Mr. Giles mutter and by the sounds of his clothing he is polishing his glasses.

"Bloody Hell, Watcher, the Slayer is a bloody kid." and that was Spike's voice.

But, Tara thought, she lives. Unbidden a small smile touches her lips when she looks at the small child nestled in the middle of too, now, big clothes on the pile of rubble.

"To live is to die, to die is to live," Tara mutters smiling slightly.

"Huh, what's that Tara?" asks Xander, who is still staring at the sleeping little Buffy.

"Nothing, just a thought, that's all." And, Tara thinks, a quote she heard on TV in passing and it struck her as a fitting line for this moment.

"Spike," she turns to the chipped vampire, "can you pick her up, and I don't think any of us are in any condition to carry her."

"Fine." Spike bends down to gather lil Buffy, clothes and all. "Oi Glenda where too now, we really don't want to bump into those pale zombies things from that building and what about that dragon that swooped out of the portal, before Buffy did a swan dive?"

Giles frowns and clucks his tongue in thought. "Those retreated back to their dwelling, the moment the sun began to rise."

"I have a question." Xander raises his hand, as much as he can since he is still carrying Anya.

"Where will we crash down, and what we will do about Buffster, now that she's not dead but …" he gestures at the Spike and little still sleeping Buffy. "And why is her hair white blonde?"

"That's what you are bloody worrying about?"

"Well yeah, she looks like you and Princess Yue's love child now, I don't like it."

"Whelp, if I didn't have my hands full right now I'd hit you, chip or no chip. And who the bloody hell is Princess Yue, characters from your comic books, Droopy Boy?"

"Where do you live, Dead boy No.2? It is from the classic cartoon, get down with modern times."

"Oh wow the Poof knows something else besides the white haired Black Cat women in spandex…"

"Actually," Anya pipes in, "this color is not unusual; after all she did get her life force drained by the Portal, and then was returned to life by The Key. And hair does white out if a person's life force is drained." Anya nods.

"Or if she channeled a lot of powerful white or neutral mojo through her, which she) happened to; she did pass through the portal, meaning there was a lot of neutral mojo that went through her and she died, meaning she had her life force drained... Just think she won't have to waste money for hair coloring anymore." Then she pins Xander with a look. "And what is Spike talking about, about other woman you like to watch? You are mine Xander not theirs!"

"An," Xander starts to explain.

"Hey!" Willow shouts. "In case you hadn't noticed," she waves her free hand around, her resolve face firmly on. "We are still here; we need to get to a safer place. Now the closest is Giles's place, so we'll go there."

 ***** Week later; Summers residence*****

Tara is sitting in the Summers' home, specifically Buffy's bedroom, watching over Buffy as she sleeps.

Tara often came to the room and told stories, or talked about her mother Tamara and her own childhood. Spike sometimes came and told his own tales to the sleeping Buffy.

Willow and Xander visited their best friend turned child once. Mr. Giles sometimes watched from the door's threshold, but he never said anything – Tara supposed that must be an older British gentlemen thing, for him to keep silent vigil over his … family member.

Tara sometimes wasn't sure if Mr. Giles knew what he felt for Buffy; love that a father holds for a daughter, or did he build a Watcher Slayer dynamic in to some new higher form. Tara thought that it was the latter on his part. Buffy, Willow, and Xander viewed him as a father figure. Even Tara is the same, before her Aether experience, now she knew that while Mr. Giles values them, cares for them even, he certainly didn't feel like a father to them, not even Buffy.

Sighing, Tara picked up a comb and ran it through Buffy's hair and made two plaits so that her hair did not tangle. All the while either telling fairy tales or singing. Sometimes she would tell her the tales from The Silmarillion, but only because Buffy's new hair color reminded her of the color that she imagined Celebrían had something between Galadriel's gold and Celeborn silver.

It's been a week since Buffy jumped to close that portal…five days ago, the gang's original memories re-settled, they knew exactly when Dawn was inserted into their lives. Townspeople of Sunnydale however didn't remember that Dawn Summers ever existed. That she once was among them was only a memory shared by Willow, Xander, Anya, Mr. Giles, Spike and Tara herself and they held a Wicca memorial held for Dawn.

Little Buffy was still sleeping though, both Willow and Giles checked on her; Tara did aura reading as well. The conclusion was Buffy was now nine years old and because she had yet to awake, they didn't know if she still possesses memories of old Buffy or nine year old Buffy.

Admittedly Mr. Giles was a bit panicked and wanted to call the Watchers Council in London, but Willow and Xander stopped him. Citing that, they would just take Buffy away now that she is a helpless kid and without her mother's legal protection and brainwashed her to be some kind of Slayer robot like Kendra was.

Anya agreed. Spike even threatened Mr. Giles with bodily harm if he even thinks of dialling Britain. Then Willow managed to fix Buffy-bot and now all of Sunnydale is under the impression that The Slayer is alive and well, so life in Sunnydale is running pretty much as it always did.

Spike did not manage to find that dragon; he did hoverer set fire to that alien building. So now they only have to worry about the occasional vampire, until apocalypse season of course. Tara suggested that they take steps in getting Faith out of jail.

Xander eminently said a vehement _**no**_ , but Mr. Giles seemed to consider that opinion. Willow then said that they should look for a way to bring Buffy back. Mr. Giles explained that that was not advisable attempted. Willow did not push after that, but Tara felt uneasy by Willow's research books that were of questionable nature. Also Willow started to use magic for everything and that worried Tara.

"Mommy?" came a thin voice from the bed, making Tara jump for a bit, then she looks, and sure enough Buffy's eyes are open. She is a bit startled when she finds that they are not hazel any more; it's like Dawn's blue mixed with Buffy's original color.

"No, sweetie. I'm …"

"Tara," Buffy pipes in. "I'm Buffy, hello! Big Sister talked about you. And Spike and Willow and Xander and Giles. And I heard you and Spike telling me lots of stories; I like those stories very much."

"Big Sister?" Tara asks, wondering.

"Mhm, she said her name is Dawn." Buffy nods enthusiastically, "Dawnie was little sister before but now when she is gone I'm little sister to Dawnie."

"Do you remember what happened before you went to sleep."

"Nope, I remember Dawn and you and Spike and Wills and Xander and old guy Giles, but it's funny in my memories I'm taller. And Dawnie always glows green, like, like … green light."

Tara is slightly amused at the appellation, "I see, so ready to meet with the others, or would you like to nap some more?"

"Nope, I had enough napping, thank you."

"Then let's go downstairs to the others; they are worried about you and …"

Growllllll.

"But first breakfast," Tara amends when she hears a sound. Buffy wraps her small hands around her middle and blushes.

"Oh wow little bird that was some growl," Spike says who just came into the room. He picks Buffy up, making her squeak at the sudden move.

"How about some pancakes, hmm. I can make those," Spike offers, which surprises Tara, so she can not help but ask.

"You can cook, Spike?"

"Sure Glinda, didn't you know?" Spike says, and then winked at the little girl in his arms.

"Joyce taught me, before she got sick, just in case, she said."

Buffy scrunches up her nose in confusion "Who's Joyce?" she asks looking from Spike to Tara and back again.

"Err, you don't remember Joyce, Pet?"

Buffy shakes her head in denial, her white blonde hair swishing about her head. "Nope."

"Uh," Spike's eyes make brief contact with Tara.

"Buffy sweetie," Tara steps closer to Spike and Buffy, and lightly touches the little girl's shoulder. "She was a very special lady who adopted all of us; she was also your mother."

"Oh, was?"

She would notice the past tense, Tara thinks. "Yes, was, she died before, when you were taller."

"Oh, I don't remember her," Buffy mumbles eyes downcast. She looks so downtrodden that Spike shifts his hold so that he is simultaneously holding and hugging her, and Tara hugs them both.

"Oh don't worry Buffy," Tara says still holding onto both child and vampire; the warm moment is interrupted by … a giggle.

"Uh, uh, you are blushing…" Buffy giggles some more while patting Spike on the cheek. That Tara notices; that yes, there is a very light redness to both of the vampire's cheeks.

"Shut up, little bit." Then he throws an annoyed frown at giggling Tara. "You can stop laughing now little witchy girl. This is nothing; I just drank a minute ago."

"Ahh, right, sure you did," Tara says, while patting the irritated vampire on the shoulder.

In Tara's opinion, the meeting, or re-meeting with everybody, went badly. Not only did all of them barge into the kitchen when Buffy and herself were eating the very delicious pancakes that Spike made but Anya started to barrage Buffy with questions, and then started to talk about her sex life in front of an eight year old!

Xander and Willow crowded Buffy asking her questions if she remembered this or that, and then being all disappointed when she said that, no, she doesn't remember.

Mr. Giles was at the loss with how to deal with a child that was not The Slayer or a Potential and Buffy had no emotional connection to her scattered memories of him either.

"Oi! Whelp, Watcher, Red, Demon Girl pipe the bloody hell down!" Spike yells, while Tara quickly steps to a blushing wide eyed and a bit scared eight years old and picked her up, fork and all.

"So Bleach Dead Boy Wonder..." Xander starts, but he didn't get far as Buffy starts to tear up.

"Spiky is nice!" she yells waving her hand. "Stop being mean to Spike, you Meany!"

"Ouch!" yelps Xander when little Buffy throws fork at him and Tara notices that with enough force and precision that the fork's teeth bit Xander's shin. Luckily there is no blood drawn.

"Now, now, little birdie no need to break whelp boy." Spike laughs messing up Buffy's hair, while Buffy is rubbing her eyes.

"Can you be my mommy and daddy?" comes a quiet question from Buffy. Tara quickly checks if she heard it right, but before she can say or do anything, Spike asks Buffy first.

"Why us duckling?" He moves closer, Tara notices that Spike also checks on the position of everybody else but he needn't worry.

Giles went to the cabinet and he is pouring himself a glass, and Willow is, along with Anya, fussing over Xander.

"Well," Buffy drawls quietly. "Mr. Giles is stuffy and old, and he wants something from me. He is making me uncof, uncofe …"

"Uncomfortable."

"Yes that, uhhh, I saw him and another guy do stuff with a couple of others, and then there was that Eyghon thingy and he drugged me when I was bigger. So he is uncomfy," Buffy asserts, and then she peers at the trio that is on the sofa.

"Em, Anya is a weirdo that talks about no-no topics and ughh she feels edgy and way to weird. I … I know that she was a demon before but umm, she is like … human but dresses up in her demon shoes sometimes … does that make sense."

"And whelp?" Spike asks.

"He is a Meany, and I didn't like him asking me if I remember all those stuff, and then he got a bit angry at me for not remembering …"

"Oh, Buffy he's not angry, he is just sad."

"Buffy some people lash out at others when they are in pain, that doesn't make them bad people."

"Just mean," Spike smirks at Tara's affronted expression and nodding Buffy.

"Spike," Tara hisses.

"What, it's true, but why not Willow. What about Red, Pet?"

"Um she, she scares me," Buffy mutters. "She loves bigger Buffy, and wants her back. But I'm me, little Buffy and I will grow into bigger Buffy … but she wants Big Buffy now."

"Oh so because we ..."

"Nope, it's because you both took care of me when I was asleep. That's what a mommy and daddy does, right?"

* * *

 _"I just want Buffster back, Wills."_

 _"Yes, we will get her back."_

* * *

 ***** TIME SKIP: October 2001*****

Tara, Spike, and Giles chase a very big, sumo sized even, vampire through the Graveyard. Of course he got away, making Spike curse loudly.

"Come on! I'm never going to get anything killed with you lot holding me back!" he complains at the top of his voice.

Tara catches up to him first, only slightly out of breath, who would have thought that keeping up with little Buffy is doing wonders for her stamina. "And I thought the big ones tire more easily."

She checks her surroundings, a habit she is picking up, thanks to the one sided prank war that broke out in the Summers house.

"No, Glenda, that's over the hill shopkeepers," Spike answers her, and then he narrows his eyes on Mr. Giles who comes running, and panting heavily. "Or Watchers …"

"I'm fine." Mr. Giles waves his hand, the one that is not holding a heavy battle axe. "I just need to die for a minute."

"So what was that powder you blew at him?" Spike asks her, "Red's experiment again?"

"It was Sobri root! It's supposed to confuse him but it kind of made him peppy…and wait a minute …" She pulls a small compact box inspecting it more closely, then groans.

"So it is something Red is experimenting on?" That curious vampire and his questions, ugh, Tara just knows that Spike will have a good laugh out of this when he gets the story in full.

"No," Tara grunts out, and all right, she is a bit annoyed that she grabbed the wrong magic powder box. "It's something Buffy was concocting for Xander."

"Ohh so what did the Poof do to annoy Nibblet this time around?" Spike asks eagerly.

"Guys heads up!" Willow's voice in their heads prevents Tara to replying. Oh well, it's not like Buffy didn't know what Sobri Root did; she'd been teaching the little girl about how to make potions and balms since the girl had shown some sort of aptitude – Tara thought and later confirmed that it wasn't just some of Buffy's fragments of memories in that little head, but from others as well, Dawn's that she gained when The Key gave her new life, Willow's, Xander's, and Giles when they did that spell to defeat Adam and of someone who was named Lady Erienne Saxton nee Fleming.

Now the last one confused and to tell the truth worried Tara, not just because it didn't fit with Willow's assumption that it was the generic 18th century noble lady Buffy dressed up as on Halloween. When they became their costumes during the spell. Though it was possibly that Dawn wore the costume and they merged somehow?

What worried her far more was the increase in vivid memories, and then she discovered that that was Willow's doing. Really she understands that neither Willow nor Xander can move on, but Willow attempt to return Adult Buffy's memories into the body of Little Buffy …it just enforced all the memories Buffy already had.

But Tara shelves that thought as Willow's voice continues: "the vampire's circling back towards you. Six o'clock. Try to drive him towards the Van Elton crypt."

"Van Elton?" Giles turns to question Tara.

"Is that the one with the cute gargoyle?"

The Big Peppy Vampire bursts back into the clearing, teetering to an abrupt stop when he sees them, whirling around with the intention to rabbit off again, but a crypt is directly behind him, so he stops moving and … well Tara can see that he is confused about which way he should go.

"Left! Make him go left!"

"And how do we do that, Red?"

Giles then throws the battle axe he's been carrying all this time, which hits the tree on the vampire's right side. Making vampire dart to the left.

Spike shrugs "Never mind then. Shall we, Glinda?"

Tara makes a slight show off curtsy and loops her arm around Spike's proffered arm. "After you kind, Sir"

"I'd appreciate it if you two didn't do this, it's disturbing," says Giles, frowning at the witch and vampire.

"Well Captain Slowpoke that's why we do this, to yank your chain," Spike answers cheekily.

They round the corner just to witness BuffyBot standing over Peppy.

"Big, fast and dumb," the Bbot says. "Just the way I like'em." The Bot kicks Peppy and moves in to stake him, but Peppy is on his feet before she can dust him.

"Peppy looks pissed," Tara notes to Spike. Earning herself a raised eyebrow from him.

"You named him?"

"Well he is peppy …"

"True, oi English, you alive there?"

"I'll be all right."

"Well we better help the Bot."

With that Spike, Tara, and Giles jump into the fray. Peppy however manages to throw Giles, who had jumped on his back, but before he can do any more, Tara aims a hard blow at his kneecap, making him buckle.

But that puts Giles in near vicinity so peppy starts to choke him.

"Spike, a little help, please."

"What ya talking about, Giles?" Spike drawls and lights a cigarette, and then waves his hand at Peppy who is on fire. Peppy then shrieks, like a little five year old girl and implodes, raining his ashes all over Giles who lies on the grass.

Giles adjusts his glasses, which had slid off his nose due to Peppy choking him and glares at Spike. "You might have let me in on your plan while he throttled me."

"Ohhh. Poor Watcher, did your life pass before your eyes? 'Cuppa tea, cuppa tea, play guitar, cuppa tea, almost got shagged, cuppa tea ..."

"Guys!" Willows voice cuts off Spike's teasing… "Help Xander and Anya! Over by Anderson's tomb."

 ***** Summers home – morning*****

Tara is watching Willow work on BuffyBot in the basement. Willow did most of her computer and online work in the basement.

"Did you manage to fix that Pie glitch, Willow?" Tara announces her presence.

Willow nods. "Yep, and I deleted that, 'Knock, knock' joke glitch."

"That's good. Willow…" Time to brooch the subject, after all summer is ending and somebody needs to go to school.

"Mhh?"

"School is starting soon."

"Yes so? We all finished that and we are going to college, aren't we? And Xander has a steady job over at construction."

"I mean school for Buffy," Tara elaborates, knowing that Willow is avoiding the topic. It seems to her that her lover is still hurt over Tara's reaction when she found out that Willow was casting Memory Retrieval Magic on Buffy. Needless to say, the spell backfired and had some side effects on Buffy.

"But…" Willow says, biting her lip, something that Tara always found endearing on Willow.

"Willow, we've been through this. Buffy has to go through growing up the normal way. There is no safe spell to bring Buffy back in exact shape she was before the jump. Mr. Giles told you, I have told you and Anya has told you as well."

"I just…"

"You want your best friend back, I know," Tara finishes Willow's sentence. Perhaps she should take a page from Anya's book and be less considerate and say that Willow's best friend has died and is not coming back and that Willow and Xander should look at little Buffy as an offspring of said best friend.

"Yeah," Willow says looking down, frowning.

"Just give it some thought," Tara reaches over and comfortably squeezes her lover's hand "and you could talk with little Buffy. She is a smart little eight, almost nine year old girl, and she is getting impression that both you and Xander hate her, so she decided to dislike you two in return."

"We don't, and hey why isn't Anya included in the bashing?" Willow babbles.

"Buffy said that she is too weird to dislike." Tara smiles, remembering, how Buffy delivered that news. "Really Willow, you need to let go."

No reply, right, Tara thinks, Willow just needs some more time to accept that her friend is gone, but her best friend and the Slayer legacy and Dawn's legacy still lives in little Buffy.

After all little Buffy told Tara what Big Buffy said to Dawn and what Dawn said to her: 'that little Buffy will live for both of them, free of their troubles.'

For both of them.

Tara climbs the stairs to Buffy's room, lightly knocking on the door; she waits to receive a muffled answer.

"Hey Buffy ready for your day."

"Yup," comes the muffled reply. Tara then enters the renovated room.

"By the way, what did you do with that Sobri Root powder?" asks Tara while she sits on Buffy's bed. Buffy meanwhile is petting …

"Is that Amy?" Tara asks.

"Yeah, she was getting angry being in that cage in the side room alone all the time, so I took her out," Buffy says, while giving another pat to a rat that is now curled in the blanket.

Buffy meanwhile looks at Tara, "Why?"

"Because I accidentally took your Specialprez for Xander powder," Tara says.

"Oh how did it work? Did it work?" Buffy is looking very excited. And that excitement is probably left by that memory imprint left by Willow. Or possibly Giles, but then again Dawn was interested in magic as well.

But Tara will be damned if she'll raise someone who doesn't respect the Craft. So she started to teach little Buffy the basics of magic.

"You didn't cast the spell on that powder did you?"

"No, in was just Sabri Root, with a bit of Tylenol and pepper," Buffy explains. "I didn't do any spell infusion, you said that bad things can happen and I don't want something bad to happen to Xander even though he is angry and hates me."

"Xander doesn't hate you, sweetie."

"Yeah he does, and he is mean to Spike. He calls him names and glares every time Spike plays with me…I just don't know what he wants, he is worse than, than ughh, …" Buffy ends her babble in an irritated huff and a pout.

"So, how about I show you how you make a salve that heals minor to medium wounds," Tara says changing the subject "and then we'll work on your Math for a bit. After all you'll go to school in the fall."

"Really, do you think I'll make some friends to play with?"

"I'm sure you will, and Buffy, you'll be enrolled under a different name."

"Yeah because it will take a while for me to grow into Big Buffy, but I'm almost nine so it will be soon right?"

"Yes. It will be," Tara says, assuring Buffy that yes, she will grow up naturally in her own time.

"Umm, Tara?"

"Yes?"

"Why didn't Willow turn Amy back yet? She is not Scabbers and can't turn herself back."

"Don't know Buffy, would you like me to look into it?"

"Yes. It's not fun being a rat ya know."

"I can imagine."

"I think I was a rat once."

"You were? How come?"

"Well, there was a spell cast …"

"And it went wrong, there is inherent danger casting spells in the rifts, like the Hellmouth here in Sunnydale, though even here there are places that are cleansed. Can you remember which ones?"

"Mhm, the oldest cemetery, people are no longer buried there, and one glade by the river in Miller's Woods because running water can ward of bad stuff."

"Correct."

"Sooo, how does magic work?" Buffy asks; Tara can see that she is curious.

"Well, you know everyone can use magic," Tara says, while Buffy curls by her side, drawing the blanket that held Amy on her lap.

"Even the bigger you used magic once or twice; Xander once accidentally set a book on fire because he read a spell. The fact of the matter is the more exposed you are to magic, the more magic you can channel, the more apart of magic you become."

"So magic is like, temperature?"

"That's actually a good analogy; everyone has a magical temperature. Most people are not aware of it though, or simply they don't believe in magic. We, magic users, like reptiles can 'heat up' and draw magic into ourselves, mix in it with our own to give the spell shape, and let it flow out of us, when casting the spell."

"And we don't need wands," Buffy says, and then pouts.

Tara laughs, knowing that Buffy, when she was big, was no fan of the Harry Potter books, but when she became little Buffy she suddenly loved them – now that there is definitely Dawn's influence.

Tara is walking through the hallway, anxious to broach the subject of school again. They really should make up a story for Buffy's history. Granted in Sunnydale that won't be hard, but what if Buffy decides to go to University in, for example, Florida.

"Ohh Willow's and Tara's domain with the cool lesbo witchy stuff," came Xander's voice from their room.

"Where is my clog? Did you see my clog; I think there is clog eating monster under the bed."

"You can look if they are with … you know."

"You mean did B …little one take my clogs?"

"Yeah, you know if that spell works this time…"

"It will work, I'm sure of it."

"So she'll be exactly like…"

"BUFFY did not take your clogs, Willow and we talked about this exact thing before. Do not mess with the natural order of things. And come down to the kitchen there'll be breakfast."

"Tara," Xander says. "It's not messing with natural order; Buffy should be with us …"

"Buffy is already with us." Then Tara turns toward Willow. "Don't do the spell; it's to dangerous to mess with …"

"I know what I'm doing Tara, Tara honey …where are you going?"

"To make sure that BUFFY has everything she needs for her first day in school; you know the important things every normal almost nine year old needs."

"What about what we need? The Hellmouth is bound to act up again. Anya agrees with that," Xander tries to mediate, the voice of reason. "We need a Slayer here."

"The world already has The Chosen One, doesn't it?" Tara said.

"Faith is a Psycho and in jail for murder," says Xander. "Right Willow?"

"Yes."

"Faith might be in jail, but she is there to make up for the mistakes she made. When will you take responsibility for your own mistakes, Willow?"

"Hey now, Wills didn't do anything wrong."

"She a-abuses magic," Tara says, almost wincing at the return of her stutter; she notices its return every time she'd argue with her loved ones. "She tries to bring her dead friend back, instead of looking after the legacy both her best friend a-and Dawn had left behind to live for THEM."

With that Tara storms out of the room, leaving Willow and Xander in Joyce old room. Their bedroom now, since they moved into the Summers' home after Glory was defeated.

When Tara enters the kitchen, BuffyBot is already making breakfast, sandwiches. Tara then goes to the fridge to take out the already made jam and batter for pancakes. She can hear Willow nearing but doesn't turn around to greet her girlfriend; she is too upset and doesn't want this to develop into another fight.

"Morning, I was thinking we could go over your programming again …" she trails off when little Buffy skips into the kitchen.

"Morning," Buffy greets Willow, getting a mumbled reply in return. Tara can just see, even if she had her back turned to them, what kind of facial expressions her important people wore right now.

Willow avoiding eye contact with the child and Buffy being hurt by it. Tara has seen this happen before, she is hoping that eventually Willow will accept it, but her lover is adamant in getting her way. She isn't the only one that wants Buffy back; Xander wants her back too. And Anya complained loudly to Buffy, an eight year old, that she can't have Xander.

"Here is your juice and pancakes with jam from vine peaches; it's the one you helped me made yesterday," Tara says, putting the plate and glass in front of Buffy. "So, excited at the prospect of going to elementary school, you'll be in 3rd grade?"

Willow did a spit take with her juice she was just drinking. "Um sweetie we … err."

"It's time to look for school, Willow, it will start and Buffy has to get her education for living you know. She no longer has a destiny except to live her life."

* * *

 _"What about Buffy's life."_

 _"Well she is getting her life back; Anya found that thing. For today."_

 _"She did great. When will we do the thing?"_

 _"As soon as the house is empty, Tara will take B … little one to Giles' place. And Anya says you are her Sweet Cookie face."_

 _"I go by many names."_

* * *

"Umm Tara what's with the Bbot, she's making lots of sandwiches?" asks little Buffy when she finishes her pancakes and juice.

"Oh, oops, she wanted to help. I got her started before I went up, and then I forgot to un-start her, it's good that Xander is here, he can take some of these to work with him."

"Do I hear my name?" and Xander enters the kitchen. "House o'chicks, relax. I'm a man and I have a tool."

"That's faulty foul."

"Spike!"

"Up with you," Spike lifts the giggling eight year up, "have you eaten?"

"Yup pancakes. They were very good."

"Course they were. I made the batter."

"Many sandwiches! Excellent, men like sad sandwiches."

Spike watches Xander for a while, opens his mouth, but Tara shoves a spoon with jam into the vampire's mouth. "This is jam from the vine peaches Buffy and I made yesterday, what do you think Spike?"

"Yeah isn't it yummy?" Buffy says exited. "So it's good?"

"Very good," Spike answers.

Tara breathes a relieved sigh, another round of bickering between the supposed adults averted.

Willow meanwhile goes to Xander with sandwiches. "Here share it with Anya, Bot made too many."

"Yeah, thanks Wills. Oh I got that soldering wire you wanted. For the Buffybot's tune up."

"Hey, didn't Mr. Summers say that he'd call today?" asks Willow. BuffyBot nods. "Yes my biological ancestor said he'd call."

"Maybe you should just let the machine, the other machine get the phone from now on, okay?"

"Is my phone manner not correct?"

"Oh no," Tara starts.

"It sucks robot girl," mutters Spike, who is currently pulling Buffy's hair into twin tails.

And Tara continues after shooting a warning look at the vampire. "It's perfect, we just can't take the chance that Mr. Summers might talk to you and know something's wrong. But that is just temporary."

 ***** Couple hours later*****

"And then Spike said that Dru started to talk about stars …" Buffy babbles and skips by Tara's side when they turn the corner and enter the Magic Box. Specifically Mr. Giles' office, Tara thinks when she ushers Buffy inside.

"Hello, Mr. Giles," she greets the watcher who is at his desk, piled with papers that he is sorting through. "Did my order come through?"

"Err, yes, here it is. Talisha Brown Maclay's ' _Touch the Earth_ '. I must say, I haven't read this book – it's a spell book you said?"

"Yes, it's not a very well known book about magical warding and curse breaking in practice, but it was written by my great, great grandmother to help the young beginning on their magical discovery."

"Yes perhaps it's good that Willow looks at it, perhaps then she would not be so rash in her magical endeavours."

"It would be useful for her, yes. But the book is not for her, it's for Tamarina."

"Tamarina? Who's …"

"That's me!" waves Buffy bouncing on her heels. "Guess what Giles?!"

"Buffy?"

"That's also me!" Buffy says, then pouts at the flustered man. "But you didn't say 'what' Mr. Giles."

"Err terribly sorry …" Giles says, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief to clean his glasses.

"I enrolled her in 3rd grade today under the name of Tamarina B. Maclay," Tara says, taking pity on the flustered man. She has to admit though, that if she'd been in to men, she'd find Mr. Giles endearing and attractive in that older gentlemen way.

"Ah."

"I also listed myself and Spike as her legal guardians."

"Spike?"

"He genuinely cares for Buffy, Mr. Giles."

"I'm aware of that Tara. I'm sorry that all this puts you in …"

"That is not the issue," Tara interrupts; she really has become an assertive person, hasn't she? "Also I'd like to purchase twelve gem stones: 2 Aventurine's, green and orange. 2 Dendritic Agates'; 2 Ambers', 2 Aqua Berly's, 1 Chrysoprase, 2 Bloodstone's and 1 Lapis Lazuli."

"You're casting a protection spell," then his eyes widen, "with a built in backslash for the person that threatens the protected … will you warn Willow?"

"I already did, if … if my Willow disregards it yet again, I can't …" she rubs her eyes that she feels are tearing up, but she (is) so tired of arguing and then Willow hurting Buffy who Tara took into her care.

"I see, well … I suggest that you take the stones, they are over there. I also suggest that the spell is cast in my flat today. But use the opportunity of distraction to take the stones now and you'll return them tomorrow, yes … Anya!?" Tara walks to stand over the shelf with labelled boxes with the gems. What she needed are easily located.

"This register report for January looks off. Let's pull those files again."

Anya moves from the store to the office, "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad? No I'm not mad, why?"

"I punished someone like this you know, when I was a demon. I made them double-check spreadsheets for all eternity."

 ***** Giles' flat – nightfall*****

"So if we are casting protection on little Nibblet," Spike says, "What do you need me for? And why is Scabbers here?"

"Huh, didn't page you as a Harry Potter fan," Tara comments, while setting the stones, the herbs, and runes into their proper positions. Giles already cleansed the room for any malignant influence before they arrived.

"I'm not, but Buffy is, so I've read a couple of books."

"You'll go out to stand guard, so we won't be interrupted because once we start casting we can not stop," Giles explains.

"Will I cast the spell too?"

"Actually Buffy …"

"You will be most important person here, Buffy," Tara interjects before Giles can say no. "You will be sitting in the middle of the circle, and you'll have your own chant. Now did you learn the worlds I gave you?"

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you keep repeating them so that you won't mispronounce anything."

"OK," Buffy says, then goes and climbs on the sofa and starts to chant. "Obsectro te, terra mater est, ut det mihi praesidium de malus. Da mihi arma."

"Tara is this wise? To let Buffy ..."

"Mr. Giles, the best protection comes from power within as well as outside casting. According to my great,great grandmother's teachings," Tara says, and then sighs. "I checked and this is the safest method, and Spike sorry but …"

"No harm done Glinda, and hey I'm a de-fanged Big Bad ... but still Bad so I can't be here, but I can beat up anything that shows up on Watcher's doorstep," Spike says, turning and exiting the apartment.

"To think that there were such spells in that book." Tara hears Mr. Giles mutter when he thumbs through her great, great, great grandmother's book. She can not help but smile slightly at the irony; if Glory didn't do what she did, if Buffy died and not regressed to an eight year old, she would have never thought of this book. And Amy would stay rat for a while longer, or at least until Willow recalled Amy the Rat again and tried another spell of restoration on her.

"Mr. Giles, it's ready," Tara says, then waves Buffy over, "first we will do the protection spell on you Buffy, then we, Mr. Giles, you and I, will cast a spell to de-rat Amy."

"Okay I'm ready," Buffy says nodding and sits in the circle Tara prepared.

 **To be continued…**

* * *

The instalment in Spike's centred chapter is that picks up when Tara lefts of… but Chapter 2: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Loyalty, Fear and Books is next in Breaking the Hourglass.

Aventurine – healing gems, emotional hurts

Dendritic Agates- one of the most protective stones

"Obsectro te, Terra Mater est, ut det mihi praesidium." – "I implore you Mother Earth, to grant me your protection from ill intent. Grant me your shield."


	2. Chapter 2

For **Disclaimer** look first chapter, please.

Chapter 2: **Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Loyalty, Fear and Books**

 ***** Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel – Day – 29 of October** ***

Wesley Wyndam Pryce's father would be absolutely appalled at the thing Gunn and himself were doing right now. Strangely that thought wasn't such a deterrent any more for Wes, former Watcher of Two Slayers. "Not that the two Slayers in question ever listened to him, as the independent young women they were, since he showed up in Sunnydale four years ago, as the green Watcher he was, he completely missed the point.

He firmly believed in what the older Watchers taught the Watchers in training about Slayers and Potential Slayers in general. He even meet a Watcher who had a Potential in his care, an eight year old Spanish national, a pliant, obedient child that was well learned in the teachings of the Slayer Handbook. That was all he had seen. Not an eight year old child … but a tool that was the Watcher's council's duty to sharpen into a weapon that they'd wield against the darkness.

And all right, he thought as he and Gunn neared a big garden on a sunny plateau in the middle of the garden was their target: a mansion they'd be breaking into today some of those teachings were applied to younger slayers, or slayers that were just called, not the ones that were past their eighteenth birthday, like Buffy Summers or the ones that were raised in the wild as Faith Lehane was.

The barking of four large Dobermans make Gunn and Wes throw the meat over the fence and soon after that they are by the front doors, with conveniently low windows.

"Step one," Wes whispers. "Doberman's are happily gnawing on the steak. Alarm and vid lines were disabled." With that he pulls out a scanner and looks at it, and he can just feel Gunn's amusement at him monologuing the plan. Well he can just lump it; this is his first breaking and entering into a rich man's house. "No infra-red, caught a break there. Step two: we cut a hole in the glass and snake in the mini-com and scan the interior."

With that Wes pulls a glass-cutter with suction cups out of his duffel bag and attaches it to the window, while Gunn moves to look through the glass door.

"If it's all clear, we disable the locks and bolts on the side doors thus completing step three." The creaking of the glass door draws Wes attention; he blinks at the door that Gunn opened, closes up his duffel bag and moves over to follow Gunn inside, then stopping, and turning back because he remembered that he forgot the suction cup on the window, and stows it in his bag, hurrying into the house where Gunn waited.

After stepping in adjacent room, he hears Gunn appreciably whistle at the things on display. "Some guys collect old cars, some guys collect …"

Wes ignores Gunn's mutterings about the eye in a jar, and surveys the room. A bottle on the pedestal draws his eye, so he walks to it, picks it up, and pulls out the stopper and takes a sniff. Hmm, he thinks, that is Muslok Trancing Amalgam, which is a pretty rare compound. He closes the bottle and puts it back on the pedestal.

"All right, if you were the priceless remnants of the lost Nyazian Scroll, where would you be?" Wes asks, while looking left and right, for any kind of clue about the scrolls whereabouts.

"If I was priceless, I'd be in the vault," comes an amused rumble from his companion. Gunn has certainly grown from the time they first met. But then again so did Wes; in fact sometimes Mr. Giles even called him for information, though the man was vague in his specifications. In the end Mr. Giles asked for them to meet face to face, the older Watcher's insisting that the nature of his inquiry stays hidden from Wes's own co-workers, since it was matter of some delicacy was a little bit worrying.

Wait, what Gunn said just now…

Wes whirls around so that he faces Gunn. "The vault? Your snitch never said anything about a vault!"

"I got a bad feeling about this," Gunn mutters, watching something past him. Knowing their luck, there is a demon standing behind him with an axe. But then again he could be wrong.

"We will figure something out. It's just a vault."

"Actually my bad feeling is more about a man standing behind you with the large revolver."

Not an axe wielding demon then, good, he thinks as he turns around. And yes quite, there is a man with a gun.

"Move and I'll kill you!" the man says. Wes is not exactly impressed, for one the safety is on and he doesn't hold his finger on the trigger. He analyses as he watches the man edge towards the telephone while still aiming, unsteadily, at them.

"I do hope you're calling the police," Wes says calmly, watching the man, probably the owner of this house.

"You bet I am," the man says, while pointing the muzzle of the gun at Wes. Speaking of guns, he makes a slight abortive gesture at his partner, _'let_ **me** _handle_ _this_.' His message is understood and Gunn relaxes.

"Good," Wes says, his eyes still on the man's face, not the gun, who is totally oblivious that he just escaped bodily harm in the form of Gunn. "You can explain then," he continues with a slight pause, for effect of course.

"Why you keep so much GHB on board." He walks over to the pedestal where the bottle he was inspecting earlier sat, "you know Rohypnol, the date rape drug."

"What?"

"Muslok Trancing Amalgam. Under the microscope it is virtually indistinguishable from GHB." He lectures and holds back a satisfied smile as the man slowly put the phone back down.

"Alright. I won't call the police." The man's voice is shaking slightly, but he still had the gun's muzzle trained on Wes, not Gunn though; his partner blends into the background just in case he'll need to disarm the man.

"I'm glad we understand each other."

"Until after I kill you."

That's a bluff, but still as the saying goes about _'cornered_ _rats'_...

"Ohhh," he drawls; from the corner of his eye he sees Gunn pick up Cyopian conjuring spheres.

"Hey," Gunn says and the man whirls at him, startled; it is a good thing that he still doesn't have his finger on the trigger, or the gun would have gone off accidentally a while ago. The man obviously has no experience with guns, which is a little bit odd.

"They're worth a lot?" Gunn asks; Wes watches the man swallows nervously.

"Yes, they're Cyopian conjuring spheres."

"How much? Four figures each? Five? More?" Gunn fires questions like bullets while starting to juggle two of the balls with one hand.

"Stop that!" the man, owner of the house, possibly, shouts.

"Put the weapon down," Gunn says his eyes on the man, even as he juggles expertly. But when the man hesitates, Gunn twists his wrist a little and one of the balls drops and shatters with a liquid splash as it hits the floor. But now, Gunn juggles three of the spheres with both hands like a professional juggler.

"Kind of delicate. Look mister we're not thieves, we're investigators. Now, we need to look at your Nyazian Scrolls. Put the weapon down, because I'm getting kind of tired here."

The gun in the man's hand is flung away and down on the glass case, and Wesley retrieves the revolver. But the man has eyes only at the balls that Gunn is juggling; he pays no mind to Wes, who primly inspects the revolver's condition, frowns in thought and puts it out of the man's easy reach.

"I always wanna give them a big finish," he hears Gunn say, but he ignores his partner in order to talk with …

"Now that we are all calm," Wes says, drawing attention to himself, "My name is Pryce, would you be by any chance Mr. Morrison, owner of this house?"

"Y-yes."

"Mr. Morrison, considering that you are well aware of the value of many relics and other assorted items, that this is very much real," Wes says in his best proper British Watcher tone of voice and judging by the expression on the man's face this was the right course of action.

 ***** Several hours later*****

Wesley has been diligently working on the translation ever since he and Gunn returned, the latter grumbling about _'English finding a friend to yap about ancient stuff_.' This was true enough, after initially threatening Mr. Morrison, he proved to be a very good conversationalist, and very knowledgeable about all his collection.

Regretfully the man was not very knowledgeable about the Nyazian Scrolls, as he hadn't gotten around to actually translating them. At which Wes offered to forward his translations. Mr. Morrison was delighted and lent the scrolls to Wesley.

Speaking of scrolls, the math portion is becoming a problem, and before Gunn went off with an amused huff, he suggested that Winifred should try Fred, Wesley reminded himself; she likes the shortened version of her name.

Though Wes discovered that he'd taken a romantic interest in the young Texan, he is a bit wary in pursuing her, after all she still needed some recovery time after her ordeal in Pylea. With that thought in mind he gathers his papers and goes to the hotel lobby, where the rest of his friends in Angel Investigations are gathered.

"See?" he hears Fred's voice saying, and he has to smile at the happy tone. She's happy, and he is glad; it makes him happy too.

"You are being chivalrous, because you're a hero, just like her. You got Kye-rumption!" Fred is saying, and he pauses at the shadow to observe her … and the others. And all right he might have picked up on Angel's habit of hovering in the shadows and watching the woman-girl he liked romantically.

"Stop using that word!" Angel exclaims, and Wes' lips curl upwards. The vampire looks flustered, maybe he should make his presence known, so he pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and steps into the lightened lobby.

"What's going on down here?" he asks.

"Nothing," came the answer from the souled vampire. Right, like Wes will believe that, but taking pity on the flustered man …

"I believe Fred's been through enough recently without people shouting at her," he says instead.

"He didn't mean anything by it," Fred hurries to explain, her eyes shining and with a slight flush. Wes quickly hid his very much pleased flush by looking at the floor. Staring at the ground however is stopped by Angel's inquiry.

"Is there something you wanted?"

"Yes," Wesley says and deeming that the bothersome flush is gone, he chanced to look at Fred. At least his past infatuation with Cordelia Chase taught him not to fumble and stutter anymore. "Gunn and I were hoping you could give us a hand with the Nyazian Prophecies. We need someone who could do math."

"Sure!" exclaims Fred, and there she is bubbly and excited and innocent … and starting to go upstairs. Passed some flowers … come to think of it; Wes looks around.

"Who gave you the flowers? Fred, I have the scrolls and papers here."

"Hnh, I'll bring my laptop, be right back!" Fred answers at the same time as Angel's hurried 'nobody.' To pass the time Gunn comes down and affixes the dartboard to throw some darts, while Wes buries himself in translations with Fred beside him working on the laptop. Cordelia works on some paperwork – bills probably, at her own desk.

The comfortable – working – silence was interrupted by Gunn's question.

"So, how are you doing there, Fred?"

Which sets off Fred into a charming flow of words when she starts to explain.

"Oh it's a simple," she says, "equation, really. The ancient Roman calendar has fourteen hundred and sixty-four days in a four-year cycle. The Etruscan, Sumerian, and Druidian each have their own cycles." With that said, Fred turns to him and beams. "You work forward from the presumed day of the prophecy under each calendar, factoring in our own three hundred and sixty-five day calendar and accounting for a three day discrepancy for every four years and …" she trails off, frowning … cutely … his brain adds.

"Oh, that can't be right, well ah … unless world ended last March."

Gunn walks closer and leans over Fred looking at her laptop; Wes sits tight on his irritation at their proximity.

"So, are we talking about Armageddon, or bad house number?" Gunn asks then straightness and walks to sit down in a chair in front of Wes's desk. "Is it a bad event, or a bad guy?" Gunn directs the last question at him.

"It's not clear on that," Wes answers then shuffles his papers. "It predicts the arrival or arising of Tro-clan, the person or being that brings about the ruination of mankind."

"So it's two for one, isn't that nice," Gunn says, heavy sarcasm coloring his voice.

"And I'm not sure on the translation; ruination may in fact mean purification."

"Purification? So this Tro-clan is a good thing?"

"I doubt that. But it's purification in Armanic, ruination in ancient Greek, and in the lost Ga-shundi language it means both."

"And," Cordy says as she looks up from her paperwork, "you don't want to make the same mistake twice."

This makes him duck his face back into the pages; yes, that was a rookie mistake, and surely that kind of thing doesn't happen to more experienced Watchers, like Mr. Giles. But Wes learns from his mistakes, something he can honestly say.

"No."

"What mistake?"

And feel no shame in front of a woman he cares about questioning him about his failing.

"There was another prophecy a while back. It seemed to be about Angel and contained the word 'Shanshu' which I thought meant to die and I sort of told Angel …"

"… That he was going to die," Cordelia says, and he has to bite on a sarcastic retort that wanted to slip past his lips.

"Oh no," Fred breaths.

He hurries to reassure her. "Then I found out that it also meant to live. It meant to die and to live."

"So which is it?" Fred asks curiosity in every line of her lovely face.

He smiles. "Both, in his case, it meant that some day the vampire in him might die, but the human in him might live."

Fred tilts her head. "That he would be, like a normal man?"

"Yes."

"Wow, what would we do if that happened?"

"I'd buy him some plaid shirts and take him to the beach. The boy needs some colour," Cordelia adds, while Fred starts to type down her new parameters into the computer.

"There, that came out better …"she says "Oh no it didn't. It's still very preliminary, but if these calculations are correct. This bad thing should already be here." Fred looks around, fearfully. And Wesley is painfully aware of her first weeks back from Pylea, when she hid under the table at every noise.

"Well, I – I guess not right here, here, but here in LA," she continues, a slight tremble in her voice that betrayed her fear. She turns back to the screen, "Let me run the numbers again."

Wes decides to ignore Angel, who just walked by him to stop at Cordelia's desk, and Gunn who returned to his pastime of throwing darts.

That is until his intense reading and translating is interrupted by Cordelia's shout. "Hey Wes! Angel loves me. I love him."

He looks up from his papers to observe Cordelia's antics. Just in time to be amused at Angel's expression.

"Oh my God," says a very flustered and embarrassed looking vampire.

"You guys love us and we love you," Cordelia says, headless of a very uncomfortable Angel before her. And Wesley can't help but join in the chorus with Fred and Gunn.

"We love you Angel!"

"They were all saying earlier," Cordelia continues. "Just in case this prophecy comes true and we all die. You're not gonna wanna hug, are you?"

Angel clears his throat. "No," he says as he shakes his head.

"God knows we've been through a lot together."

"That's really all I was trying to say, that we've been through so much together, you and me, as friends." Angel puts an emphasis on friends, Wes notices. "You've seen the good and the not so good."

"Just like you have in me," Cordelia says. "And for the record," she continues, flashing the vampire a brilliant smile that would be the envy of any actress. "The good I've seen far outweighs the bad."

"Thanks, you too," Angel says after a beat.

"Hey what are friends for?" Cordelia says, shrugging.

"If you ask me," comes a very familiar voice that makes Cordelia, Wes sees, forget to close her mouth after that statement.

"They're for knocking you up and leaving you high and dry."

Wes stands up from his desk, his eyes trained on a very pregnant figure standing on the top landing leading into the lobby from the outside.

"Hello lover," Darla purrs. "Long time no see."

Angel is staring, well all of them are staring, probably, but Angel is in Wes's line of vision.

"Darla," Angel breaths, and does his friend have to sound so … reverently incredulous? Though perhaps a pregnant vampire does inspire a certain … _'what_ _the_ _hell'_ factor.

"Darla?" and that is Gunn, turning fully from the dart board, still holding a dart, as if a delay tactic of throwing that dart at Darla would work

"Darla!" Cordelia as usually has to add her own voice into the mix.

"Who's Darla?" Fred asks, looking from person to person.

"Angel's old flame from way back," Gunn answers; he really should not be the one who tells her the history of The Whirlwind, the quartet of vampires that Angel and Darla belonged to. Gunn's knowledge is incomplete, full of holes and untruths.

"Not the one that died?" Fred asks.

"Darla died," Wes found himself saying. "In Sunnydale, then was resurrected by Wolfram and Hart here in LA as a human, and then was turned," he elaborates; it is best to keep this as short as possible.

"But …"

"As far as I know Buffy is very much alive," Wesley says quickly, ignoring Darla's growl of 'what a pity.' "Though she did drown once but a friend gave her CPR."

Gunn turns to Angel. "Wow you really have a thing for blondes that die and come back to life. Are they both on the strong and short side?"

"The cheerleader is shorter," Darla growls, "and smaller everywhere."

" _Meow_!" mocks Gunn. Wesley really should make a point to him as well as to Cordelia: you do not mock a pregnant woman, vampire or not.

Fred leans toward him. "Y'all have a chart or something?"

"Fred, if you are amenable I can explain it all later after this crisis," Wesley says, and Fred nods smiling, and pats his hand, sending pleasant shrives down his spine; then she goes to stand by Cordelia.

"Well, when did this happen?"

"You know exactly when it happened," says Darla, while walking, slowly, down the steps but Wesley is still holding on to a _'surprise'_ in his pocket. Pregnant or not, Darla is still a vampire … never mind his curiosity of how a vampire can get pregnant.

"Angel," Cordelia tries to gain their former boss's attention, "did you and Darla...?"

Honestly, Wesley thought, its biology; shouldn't Sunnydale High School cover how children are conceived? Unless she is pondering on how the bloody hell two vampires conceived a child.

Is this child a vampire, or will it'll be like the origin demon of the vampire line?

"This is impossible!" Angel exclaims. No, Wes thinks sardonically, just improbable. There must be something written somewhere about this. Perhaps he should ring Mr. Giles and ask if there is something in The Codex; they are scheduled to meet at Denny's in Oxnard in two days time.

"Tell me about it, daddy," says Darla.

"You slept with her?"

"Cordelia, you do realize that to conceive a child there's no sleep involved."

"I'm not a simpleton," Cordelia says slowly, and Wesley can hear the former cheerleader grit her teeth in anger.

"No, that you are not; however who Angel, err, has relations with is not our business," he says potently, "we are his friends; none of us is his err, significant other."

"It is if they can …" Cordelia starts, but he interrupts her with sharp retort of his own.

"That was one specific event, done in love and trust between two people, Cordelia. It was not the same with Darla, obviously, as Angel's soul is still here." Wesley does not understand why exactly she is focused on this … unless she thinks Angel can lose his soul, just because of shag alone. Somehow he doubts that Angel was celibate during his long life, soul or no soul.

"Vampires can't have children." Angel's outburst draws Wesley's attention to the irate vampire.

"Wesley?" Said vampire is pleading with him for answers. Answers that Wes does not have, **yet**.

"Yes, normally vampires can't produce children, because after they rise as vampires, their bodies are void of life, and therefore are frozen in time," he says. "It should not be possible."

"You know we can't," Darla says, whirling about. "I know we can't. But we did."

Fred taps her finger to her cheek, in thought, Wes supposes. "I wonder if this might not be that bad thing we were expecting."

And Wesley has to admit, not out loud, not yet, that this is a possibility … but as these things usually go, the child, if it was going to be a Tro-clan, it would have already be born or conceived at the moment Fred calculated.

"What did you do to me?" Darla shouts and hits Angel across the face and he stumbles back against the weapons cabinet behind him.

Now if his deduction skills aren't wrong, this blow had more power behind it that it should have, even for a master vampire that is Darla's age. That is troubling.

"Stop that." And when did Cordelia step between two vampires? Clearly she should hone more on her survival skills.

"It's okay. It's alright. I'm okay."

"You'll hurt her!" Cordelia shouts at Angel. Shaking his head Wesley steps to his desk and sits down, aligning a small hand held crossbow he had stashed there in Darla's general direction, musing that he'll never understand Cordelia's priorities, but at least he has a free show.

"Haven't you done enough?" Cordelia then helps Darla to the couch; **perfect** , now he has her perfectly aligned for a shot to the heart.

"Here sit down; you should get off your feet."

*** **Half an hour later - Caritas** ***

Angel practically flies in front of them, almost kicking the door in. Wesley somehow feels a brief flash of pity for the Host; he'll get to deal with panicking father-vampire to be.

"Lorne!" he yells even as he strides inside. Wesley resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, though he doesn't know what his main reason for that would be; frustration?

He is _frustrated_ , yes; there is something monumental happening right before him, and he has no books to check. Anxiety?

Yes, because he has a feeling that they are running out of time. Amusement?

Well Angel panicking because of pending fatherhood is amusing.

"You got to help me! We got kind of a situation on our hands."

Turns out, Wes notices, that Lorne is not alone; he has three human looking women, dressed in Greek stola robes, with him.

"Mmm, Angel."

That apparently knew Angel, Wes thinks while he practically feels Cordelia bristle beside him. He is starting to think she has feelings for the broody vampire.

"And here we have three more of Angel's chippies." The sarcasm is from Cordelia; yes well, apparently his previous thought is gaining merit.

"You girls are on the pill I hope?"

"Mmm," came the answer from all three of them, but their eyes are not on Cordelia, thank God, but entirely focused on Angel, who smiles at them and waves.

Why does Cordelia have to purposely insult and irritate beings that could crush her?

When she did it to Miss Summers in Sunnydale Cordelia was sure that the other girl wouldn't harm her. But if you caught somebody at the bad time, even The Slayer can lose her patience, especially wounded slayers; after all, a Slayer is only human.

Most often a child – a human child – something that top management of the Council, old men from even older British families like to ignore and in turn teach field Watchers to ignore as well. It's a pity he hadn't realized that when he first came to Sunnydale. He might have prevented Faith from going off the deep end entirely, or at least not have called in London and reported Faith, for that accidental kill.

Granted, Faith trying to push the blame on to Buffy, sent warning bells off in his head, but he could have left Faith to Mr. Giles and Angel, who managed, as Wes found out, to make some progress with Faith, before the Council enforcers barged in.

"What are they doing here?" Angel asks. And yes that is something Wesley wants to know as well, preferably also finding out who and what they are.

"They're here to help recast the sanctuary spell," Lorne starts to answer, and Wesley's mind whirls; they are either immortal sorceress or Musses. How fascinating, if this was a normal day, he'd have definitely initiated a conversation with the trio.

"And this time I'm covering demons and humans. I'm opening the club again. I know I was blue for a pretty long time, if it'd gone much longer I would have turned aquamarine. And now that the ice is broken," Lorne grows serious and turns to Darla.

"What happened here?"

"What does it look like?" Darla replies, sarcasm dripping like honey.

"Like you have bun in the oven," is Lorne's deadpan reply.

"Angel boned her," Cordelia pipes into the conversation.

"Just once," Angel whines – Wes does a double take, Angel actually whined.

"Just one night, ah, just the two or three times that one night …"

"Is Angel going to sing?" Fred asks. Wes is prepared, it's the reason he bought those ear plugs.

"Ohh," groans Gunn. Yes I feel your pain, Wesley thinks, Angel's singing is equal to Cordelia's acting.

"I suppose he has to," he says, reaching for the ear plugs.

"She's carrying the baby!" Cordelia shrieks, and apparently Darla is in no mood to listen to Angel mutilate good music either, because she grabs Lorne by the lapels, pulling herself close and starts to sing.

"Ohh, Danny Boy, what the hell's inside me?"

Wesley has to admit that she has a good singing voice.

"Ohh no, no, no, no. we're past singing, mes enfantas. This is a brand new day here," Lorne says, and then he turns to the workers in the club.

"Alright that is a wrap! We'll finish tomorrow, we got a little crisis brewing, thanks for coming!" he yells, as people and demons start filling out. "Check's in the mail! Get the hell out."

Wesley watches as the assorted workers leave, then when Lorne starts to talk, he tunes in, as it were.

" … and my Barbie," Lorne is saying. "And all my action figures. If it's alive …"

"Oh it's alive," Darla says. "Alive and kicking!"

"It could be anything, a child born to two vampires …" Lorne is walking and talking, but he isn't saying anything new, or really helpful, in Wes's general opinion.

"Maybe it's some kind of Uber-vamp," Gunn says.

While this is possibility, it is not the way Turok Han, or Ancient Vampires, come into being, and besides there is still …

"The Nyazian prophecies mention a Tro-clan." Perhaps with this information, Lorne will be able to pick up on something.

"That's supposed to be here about now." Fred sits on the bar stool.

"Born out of darkness, to bring darkness." Lorne's words don't exactly bring comfort. But just because darkness is associated with a vampire that doesn't automatically mean evil. Darkness itself is not evil; night is not evil.

"Great," that is Angel, and Wesley really longs to sit down and throw himself into his research.

"So we're saying that my child is the scourge of mankind?"

Suddenly all of them, Wes included, turns to Darla who gives out a very tired sounding groan.

"You guys are upsetting her!" Cordelia chides them; somehow she again misses the point. Wes doubts that Darla cares if she is carrying the possible scourge of mankind, he thinks as he watches Cordelia and Lorne help Darla up and start to lead her towards the back of the club, where Lorne's bedroom is located.

"I don't think it's wise for any of us to be alone with Darla …" Wes starts to say, but Angel completely ignores him; he probably doesn't even hear him speak, as he is too busy with his rambling.

"I don't accept this, these stupid prophecies; you can always interpret those a hundred ways from Sunday. How do we even know your calculations are correct?"

"I don't, I'm still working on them," Fred says. Wes supposes that that is a fair point; however he is pretty sure that Fred's estimated calculations are in fact correct and the evil thing is here. This excludes whatever is in Darla's womb.

"Well we do know that Darla is pregnant with something," Gunn points out, obviously since she is pregnant. Why, oh why, do Cordelia and Gunn need to point out the obvious?

"That's biologically impossible."

"Also mystically unfair. You've fought long and hard for good. If your destiny is to spawn something evil..."

"I don't see how anything spawned by Darla and I could be good."

And that would be his cue to be the voice of reason, again.

"You know the first prophecy that said the vampire with a soul would be pivotal in the battle between good and evil?" he says.

"That Shanshu one?" Gunn asks.

"Maybe it's not you; maybe your child is the pivotal figure. Maybe your destiny is to simply help bring it into the world," he voices the other possibility, but as for the theory that Lorne and the others were saying …it is only an unconfirmed theory and has to be backed up with the facts, something they do not have.

"Or to stop It," is Angel's reply, and really he is right. If worst comes to worst and the Child is a thing of evil, Angel might be the only … no there is still Sunnydale and Rupert Giles's Slayer.

"Can I say something about destiny?" Fred says strongly, "Screw destiny."

Oh yes, somehow he has an amusing thought of introducing Miss Summers to Fred. Granted he does not have this much contact with Sunnydale … but he does occasionally call, or receive a call, so he is aware of the high points of Miss Summers's life from Miss Summers herself – also he is the reason why Miss Summers had known that Faith is in LA at the time when Faith hunted Angel.

Pity that Miss Summers's warning that Faith had woken from her coma had come after he was tortured by her.

"If this evil thing comes we'll fight it, and we'll keep fighting it until we whoop it, because destiny is just another word for inevitable …" Fred is saying. And isn't that the truth. He did read Rupert Giles notes, the unofficial ones, the one the man hid; Wesley still found them though and read them – even Codex was beatable.

"… and nothing is inevitable as long as you stand up, look it in the eye, and say 'you're evitable'."

Which is just what the Codex is supposed to be … and the Slayer did die, but because of the same Slayer's insistence of her right to be a teen with friends she is still here.

"Wow," says Lorne. "I like her so much!"

Lorne is not the only one, Wesley thinks.

Angel starts to pace between the chairs and tables, then he looks at them all. "I wanna see these prophecies myself, and your calculations, Fred, and anything else we got on this."

"Why don't I go back to hotel and get everything," Fred says which makes Wesley cringe in the thought of bringing ancient tomes and scrolls into a bar of all places.

"Good idea, we can all go back to Hyperion and put our heads together and figure out a way to fight this thing," he says standing and guiding Fred out of the club, before they walk out, he turns back and says,

"We'll lay everything out by the time you bring Cordelia and others to the hotel, Angel."

"Right," Angel nods. The last words Wes hears, before he walks out, is Angel's question to Lorne.

"How's she doing?"

 ***** Two hours later*****

Wesley is researching; Fred is typing on her laptop, and they've been in deep research ever since they came back to the Hyperion. Granted with a slight interruption when Gunn brought in Cordelia so she could lie down in one of the hotel rooms; as soon as Cordelia was safely sleeping in one of them, Gunn had given him and Fred an update and then left.

But Angel nor Gunn or Lorne came back yet, since they are looking for Darla, who bit Cordelia and then escaped into the night.

"Wes!" speaking of …

"In here, Cordelia," he calls out, and Cordelia Chase storms into his office and starts to pace; Fred is watching the other woman with apprehension.

"Are you alright, Cordelia? Should I bring you warm milk with honey or Peppermint tea? Mama always said that those are calming … did you have a nightmare …" Fred talks a mile a minute, but it seems to calm down Cordelia somewhat.

"It was a dream," she says slowly, as Cordelia collects her thoughts to make a coherent account. "But it was more like a vision," she continues, and then nods as Fred passes her a mug filled with the promised tea.

"About what?" Wes prompts her.

"About what's inside Darla," she answers, clearly, as she starts to sip the beverage. "This Tro-clan thing, do the prophecies say that it will be born or that it will arise?"

Now this he is able to clear up. "It says both, the middle English eyrizan and the Gothic urreisan, both mean to appear, to spring up. However as I discovered, some of the irregular words I was using were problematic when converted to Ga-shundi because of the Nyazian trick of converting both nouns and verbs ahem… " Wesley trails off when Cordelia shoots him a very annoyed look.

"Can you not do British demon hunter long winded blather? I so do not need it right now," Cordelia says, every word bitten off with a very forced smile.

"Sorry, Cordelia but all of this is terribly important."

"Yes, yes, oh did I forget to mention that in a vision I felt that the baby has a soul, so you might shorten the explanation," Cordelia says, standing up and putting an empty mug on his table, on the papers. He quickly moves the mug away, breathing a relieved sigh when he notices no wet circles on his papers.

"The Tro-clan isn't a person or persons. It's a confluence of events."

"Oh that's just swell, not only does that involve Mr. Broody Vampire and the pregnant vampire bitch that bit me and their kiddo, but other horrible things we have no freaking clue about!" At the end of the sentence Cordelia's voice takes on a very shrill pitch, making Wesley's ears ring.

"Angel's not answering his phone. Should I leave a message on his voicemail?" Fred says holding the phone up for emphasis.

"Angel doesn't know how to use voice mail, just try his pager," Cordelia says, and Fred complies. They all wince and zero in on the coat – a black leather coat – hanging in the corner, from where the pager was going off.

Cordelia sighs'. "Try Gunn's, and then if that doesn't work, try Angel's mobile again."

 *****Next night – emergency entrance, hospital somewhere in LA*****

Wesley waits by Darla for an all clear sign from Angel.

"He's waving," Darla says. "So move it, I want to get this done and over with."

They file into the empty hospital hallway, and put Darla in a wheelchair which Angel starts to push along.

Cordelia is moving ahead of the wheelchair, to check if there are any people ahead, with Fred right behind her along with Gunn, and Wesley is bringing up the rear. With quick strides he reaches Fred and with low voice says something; Fred nods, grabs Gunn, and they disappear down another hallway.

"How are you feeling?" Angel asks Darla, leaning forward over her blond head.

"I haven't had blood in almost a day, and your devil spawn is trying to rip its way out of my body. How do you think I'm doing?" replies the irritated pregnant woman.

Angel pulls Darla's chair through the swinging doors, through which Cordelia disappeared through, closely followed by Wesley.

"I sent Gunn and Fred to find an ultra-sound machine so we can take a look." Then at the puzzled look from the two vampires, right, Wes thinks, they probably have no idea what that is.

"Inside Darla, we can look what she is carrying with that machine," he says as Angel looks around the large room that they are currently in.

"What's this, a classroom?"

"Yes, it's a teaching hospital," Wes answers Angel's question, and then he turns to Darla. "How are you feeling Darla?" Just because the woman is evil and undead, that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve some common courtesy, though that doesn't mean that he doesn't have his little hand held weapon tried on her as a precaution.

At the lack of response he looks up at Darla, to see the vampire frowning at her protruding belly.

"Something wrong?" Angel asks.

"I think the contractions have stopped," Darla answers, still frowning. Wesley however wonders if that set of contractions they had witnessed before were a false alarm. It happened with pregnant human ladies, and Darla was once human; she wasn't born a vampire.

"Is that bad?" Angel asks, just as Wesley comes to the decision that he is the most qualified to look if this was false alarm, so he walks over and reaches for Darla, then he pauses. ' _Courtesy toward expecting mothers is very becoming young master of the house'_ was what he often heard from his mother. Somehow he thought that this was a lesson his father never learned; Wes doubted that he even knew what courtesy toward women was, unless he stood before Queen Elizabeth the Second.

"Do you mind if I …" he asks Darla for permission to examine her.

"I won't bite," Darla says, and Wes leans over to, gently, press his palm on her belly, ignoring Cordelia's sarcastic remark that the thing inside might, something that Wesley thinks would be highly unlikely.

"You may have been experiencing something called Braxton Hicks contractions," he tells Darla. "They're a form of false labor."

"False?" prompts Darla.

"False as in not ready to came out yet," Wes answers, then hearing the door swing open he looks up to see Gunn and Fred wheeling in the machine.

"Here you go one ultra-sound machine," Gunn says, wheeling the machine past them toward the bed.

Putting jelly on Darla's exposed belly is a strange experience.

"Well then, let's take a look," Wes says, to dispel a heavy silence that had descended upon the room. "Well, I haven't studied one of these for quite a while. But I think," he points at the screen. "That this is the head."

Angel squints at the grainy screen, then points. "Isn't that a head?"

"Maybe you're both right," Fred says, drawing everyone's attention. "It's not like I'm suggesting it's an evil two-headed thing."

He then moves the sensor around, to take a better look, and yes, he is right, that is the head, and … the child has a heartbeat, which is … heartbeat and a soul; the two vampires fathered a human … a boy …

"I see it," Wes hears Cordelia.

"My little parasite," Darla says, while she watches the silhouette in the monitor move, and Wesley can not help but notice a slight upturn of her red painted lips. It looks like that despite herself; Darla's mother instincts are rearing their head. Or perhaps the boy's soul is affecting the mother.

"It's human," he states.

"Human as in humanoid?" Gunn asks, earning himself an annoyed glance from Wesley, that wasn't what he said. "As in cannibalistic humanoid underground dwellers?" Gunn continues.

"No, as in: human, Homo sapien, boy- child human," Wesley clarifies.

"Boy?" Angel whispers and asks in slight awe.

Wesley gives his former boss a slight smile. "Yes it's a boy." Then he turns to Darla, "You are carrying a boy."

"Great," says Darla. "At lest the brat wont become the Vampire Slayer or something."

"Going to have a son," Angel says, and then Wes watches how a small smile creeps across Angel's face. "I'm going to have a son."

Well, Wesley supposes, he doesn't think that Angel ever expected to have a son, or at least not before that Shanshuprophecy came to pass.

"Guys," Fred suddenly says. "As fascinating a-an ultra sound of an unborn child may appear …"

"Me as a father," Angel says, and then whirls about and grabs Wesley's shoulders. Quite painfully, he thinks sardonically. What's next, will Angel start to shove cigars into his and Gunn's mouths to celebrate his son's birth. Like that monkey in the Bugs Bunny cartoon?

"To a son. You know what that means?"

"We are surrounded by vampires?" Fred asks; Wes can hear her inching toward them.

"No he is a human boo…" Angel starts to say, but suddenly trails off, letting go of his very painful grip so Wesley can look around.

Oohhh…Wesley is once again in slight danger of being eaten by vampires. This time in a school room, again, though not High School.

"Ohh," Angel says, "We're surrounded by vampires."

"Ahem," Cordelia looks from him to Angel and then back again. "So who has a plan?"

"Don't let 'em kill us sounds like a good first step."

"The miracle child," one of the vampires says. And many around him echo him in the whisper.

Wesley fights the urge to roll his eyes; of course the naturally conceived child of two vampires would draw a following. It is strange that Wolfram and Hart hasn't made any appearances to grab Darla, yet. They probably will.

"For his time has come," the same vampire says, his face unwaveringly turned to the baby bump while the vampires around him bow down. "Praise be. Praise be. Praised be," they start to chant.

"Hey, I'm all for being idolized, but, what the hell is going on?" Cordelia shouts, and seriously when will the woman get a clue that you don't try to antagonize more powerful opponents?

"What do you want?" Angel asks. Really Angel, Wesley thinks, it's so **obvious** what they want.

"To protect the miracle child."

"Protect?" Angel asks. "Ahh, that's good. We're all here for the same thing then."

Somehow Wesley doubts that; even as the glass above them shatters, and a man dressed like a ninja and holding a sword drops down in front of them while screeching "Die!" at the top of his lungs, and then the screaming turning into a tone of horror, as the child worshipping vampires jump at him. Wesley has a pretty good idea that the man was drained of his life blood in mere seconds.

"As it has been prophesied," the same vampire states, making Wesley perk up at the word _'prophecy'_.

"By our great potentate Ul-thar, we vow our lives to protect this special child."

"You hear that?" Angel asks turning to Darla, with an excited smile. "Our kid. Special." Like a proud papa, Wesley thinks.

"Now let us kill the humans," the spokes-vampire man says, "So we may use their blood to nourish the mother and her miracle child."

And here it is, the other shoe, Wesley thinks as he pulls the stake out of his pocket.

"Guess I'm getting dinner after all," Darla says. Not surprising that she is switching sides, she is after all without a conscience and a soul.

"Darla, you might want to join the fight." And that is Angel; really, did Angel _**really**_ expect that Darla's allegiance wouldn't change, if offered a better deal?

"Sorry darling, I'm just going to be Switzerland and sit this one out," Darla says. Then she turns to the vampires. "Now you did say you were just going to kill humans, right?"

"Yes," the vampire answers, "just the humans, then we will nourish you, slice you open, wear your entrails as a belt, and consume your eyeballs before we worship the miracle child."

At that Darla, predictably, jumps off the table and goes to stand beside Angel. "Okay, I'm in," she says.

"Gunn, you and I can hold them off for as long as we can. The rest of you, get Darla to the car," Angel says.

"Ohh, I'd rather stay and fight," Darla says, smiling at the vampires gaining on them. "Show these youngsters a thing or two about real carnage."

"That's thoughtful, but, you know, you should go," Angel says to Darla.

"Charles, do you have an extra dagger I could borrow?" Fred asks; Gunn, without taking his attention off the vampires, hands her a dagger he pulls out from somewhere.

"This okay?" Gunn asks.

"Perfect."

"On my count of three," Angel says, and then starts the countdown. Wesley readies himself for the upcoming fight … when everything stills as Fred holds her borrowed dagger against Darla's belly.

"You freaks make one move and I'll slice the miracle kid into triplets."

"It's always the quiet ones," Cordelia remarks, casually inspecting her nails with a smile.

"Wait!" shouts the vampire. Wesley doesn't relax however, and then suddenly he hears Darla make strangled sound something between amusement and expiration.

"They do now," Darla says, Wes assumes that she is talking to Fred. "Vampires have great hearing."

Ahh, Wesley thinks, Fred probably whispered some reassurance, or that she won't stab Darla.

"Here we go," Darla says gleefully evil.

 *****Four hours later - Caritas*****

Wesley is pacing, he's been pacing since they got to Lorne's karaoke club. He passes past Gunn, who is sitting in front of the bar, playing his Game-boy. Then he turns to the left, strides behind Cordelia who is reading some posh fashion magazine. Fred is sitting besides Lorne reading a leaflet, while Lorne is messing with some sort of installed magic machine. Wesley, if this was a normal day and not world in peril time, would have loved to take a closer look at that machine.

"Okay, okay I'm convinced I got it this time," Lorne exclaims, while leaning back. Wesley just keeps pacing, but part of his attention is on Lorne, and Gunn, who opened his, big, mouth …luckily Cordelia has foresight to smack him upside the head.

"Oww, Cordelia!"

"Not sorry, you had it coming."

Lorne meanwhile, Wesley watches, takes the leaflet from Fred. "Let me see that." Wes resumes his pacing, at the turn that has him facing the front doors, he just sees Angel supporting Darla as he leads her down the stairs.

Sending a quick prayer of thanks, even if Wes is not a religious man, he steps to meet the two vampires.

"Guys. A chair. A chair," Angel says, and Wesley, without missing a beat or stopping, pulls one of the chairs with him as he meets them halfway.

"Geez, what happen?" he hears Gunn ask behind him, but he doesn't turn, his eyes are focused on Darla, who is obviously in pain. Then a thought hits him: the baby is ready, but Darla is unable to give it life, and whatever is supporting, protecting the baby … is now preventing it … him from being born.

His thoughts are interrupted by a sound of thunder … it appears that there is one more storm brewing outside.

Darla's quiet laugh draws Wesley's attention back to the group before him.

"She is in a lot of pain."

"How frequent are the contractions?"

"It's been …" Angel stops and he appears to think his answer over. "I don't know maybe an hour."

That did, perhaps confirm Wesley's theory but, he'd rather just tell Angel, and only when he is more confident in this almost confirmed theory.

"An hour? She was well into an active stage of labor."

"I don't understand either, she just stopped having contractions."

"But the pain she is experiencing."

"She says she's experiencing something else."

"That is worrying." Wesley, now, has that confirmation, but he really is not happy with it, especially when it dashes Angel's hope of raising his son. Together with Darla …

"Angel!" Cordelia shouts suddenly. Wesley whirls around, together with Angel, to see Darla hunched over in obvious pain. Angel hurries past Wesley …

"Let's get her to my bedroom, come on." Lorne says, and helps Angel lead her to the bedroom.

"Wesley," Fred says, Wesley turns to her, and looks at the seat, a seat that Darla had just vacated, where Fred points out to him a little puddle of dark blood on the seat Wesley walks to Lorne's bed room, Fred close behind him; they make a beeline to the bed, examining her yet again.

Wesley steps toward and past Angel who is hovering; he knows that Angel will follow.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"She is tough as nails," Wesley answers Angel's frantic question.

"Plus immortal, that helps," Fred adds from Darla's bedside.

"What about my baby?"

At that Wesley, steals a quick glance at the expecting mother, and then walks completely out of the room, Angel following close behind.

"What? What is it?" Angel asks.

Sighing in sadness, Wesley prepares himself to deliver bad news. "Angel I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst."

"No."

"The baby's heartbeat is faint a very faint heartbeat." And growing fainter by the minute, he adds in his thoughts.

"What do we do?"

"I'm not sure there is anything we can do. Darla's body, it's not a life giving vessel; it is not equipped to do what it needs to do to bring a baby to term."

"What are you saying?" Angel's voice rises with every word. "We just let it die?"

"What about a C-section?" Cordelia's voice is so sudden that it startles both of them; she is not alone however, Gunn and Fred are standing right behind her.

"Normally," it's Fred that answers, "that's exactly what we'd do in this instance, but the mystical forces that's been protecting the pregnancy … " she trails off but the meaning of her words is very clear and as if the heavens are aware of the drama unfolding they provide a rumbling thunder clap outside.

"… is gonna end up killing it," Angel finishes Fred's words, ever the obvious man. Or perhaps he thought that in voicing it, it will somehow … go away?

"That is my fear." But I hope there is some way, Wes thinks watching Angel who rubs his eyes.

"This doesn't make any sense," Angel says, as his hand falls down, he looks so tired. "I mean this whole thing has been a miracle, right? You just don't get half a miracle, do you? I mean the powers; they protected the baby all this time."

Gunn steps forward and Wesley just knows that he'll, as the American's say it _, 'put a foot in his mouth'_.

"We don't know that. We don't know that it's the powers that have been protecting it. Angel, I'm sorry, but what if what Darla's carrying IS the thing in the prophecies? That scourge of mankind that's supposed to plunge the world into ultimate darkness? What if what's happening to Darla now, is something the powers are doing? Finally stepping up to the plate and doing something for once!"

"How? By killing my kid, like that?" and saying that Angel turns around and retreats in to Lorne's bedroom.

Cordelia turns to Gunn, reaches out to slap his arm, "Do you always have to be so honest?" she says, but at that moment her hand is repelled by a blue force field.

Lorne perks up, "What?! **Hey**! Hey, it-it worked! I fixed it! Yay me!"

Wes watches the dancing and singing Lorne fondly, occasionally shooting a worried glance to the closed bedroom doors.

"Maybe I should go in there, apologize," he hears Gunn say, and just in time Wesley manages to grab the younger man's arm.

"Best to just stay here, wait this out."

"I think both Angel and Darla just need a little time alone," says Cordelia.

Fred shakes her head sadly. "This isn't gonna end well, is it?" She looks at Wesley, but he has no words to comfort her, or anyone really.

"Okay, everybody's drinking. I'm buying," Lorne says, walking to the bar and pulling out bottles. Well, Wesley thinks, he'd need a stiff drink to warm up. He gets up from his chair and sees a man in a brown overcoat walk into the club. He had a mullet, dark brown hair with a mustache and beard, which Wesley saw in that Musketeers movie, that played in the theater.

"Oh hello," Lorne greets the man. Wesley sees the man look the Host up and down. "Hello," he says in a, huh, Welsh accent; how curios.

"We are not opened yet," Lorne continues. "Why don't you come back tomorrow night?" He hands the man a Caritas Flyer. "It's the grand re-opening. Here's the flyer."

The man takes the flyer, looks it over. "Thank you," he responds as Lorne walks back and around the bar to pour some drinks.

Wesley watches as the man looks around, then slowly turns and walks around singing quietly …

"Sleep, my love and peace attend thee," he sings. Wesley tilts his head, as Lorne starts to hum along; now that tune is familiar. He remembers that his nanny, who was from Wales, sang it. Ar Hyd y Nos or in English: All Through the Night. It is a lullaby.

"All through the night, guardian angels god will send you, all through the night..." the man sings as he steps through the door that leads outside.

Wesley's thoughts are interrupted when he hears glass breaking; he whirls around to see that Lorne is watching after the man wide eyed the alcohol bottle is on the ground smashed.

"Run!" Lorne yells.

"What's going on?" Cordelia asks, just as she slips from the stool and moving towards Lorne, Wesley and Gunn following close behind. Lorne pulls them into a run for the back of the club.

"Just run!" is Lorne's only urgent words. Wesley did not question his friend as he grabs Fred and pulls her along. They barrel through Lorne's bedroom door, just as an explosion rocks the building.

Angel looks at them as he supports Darla beside the bed. "What's going on?"

"We're being attacked," he answers in a clipped tone, guiding a shaken Fred toward the back, away from the door and line of direct fire.

"Attacked? I thought you had double protection sanctorum spells?" Angel asks; turning to look at Lorne.

"I do. It's a thing with the door and the stairs and the word and the thing. Never mind!" Lorne snaps after a very impressive babble, that Wesley thought only Miss Rosenberg was capable of.

"Apparently," Gunn says as he leans against the bed post, "you can be outside and shove stuff in."

"It's Holtz," Angel says; he sounds so sure, wait a moment, Holtz, the German word for _'wood'_ but that's not … _Vampiricus Conquestust page 412_! He thinks, frozen, Wes remembers reading that and envisioning himself as Master Rouge demon hunter, with a Vampire Slayer … but Holtz was a normal human that lived in the eighteenth century!

"What?" Darla asks; looking wildly at Angel. "How is that possible?"

It is something that Wesley would like to know as well, and he really hopes that the man wasn't turned by his quarry. He was a force to recon with while a normal human being, he'd hate to meet the vampire version of famous vampire hunter.

"He is here. I would have mentioned it before, but I didn't think it was the right time," Angel says to Darla, and Wesley resists the urge to mimic Cordelia and slap the idiotic vampire upside the head. He should have told them, his co-workers and his boss.

"No," Darla says as she sinks to her chair. "It is the perfect time."

Wes however pays more attention to Lorne, who is moving the bed to reveal … a wall.

"What's behind the bed?" Gunn asks.

"An old loading dock door. I had the whole place covered," comes a muffled answer.

"What's on the other side?" Wesley asks, hoping that this is their way out, judging by how Lorne acts, he is probably right.

"An ally."

Gunn steps closer with intent to help. "You got an ax, a hammer or anything?"

"Buddha head." Wesley points out the statue.

"A rhino." Cordelia hands him the sculpture of a Whrenghallian demon.

"That's not a rhino … that's …" never mind, Wesley thinks, not worth the bother, as he and Gunn haul back to attack the wall.

"That's why this is happening, his family, his children. What that must have been like for him. Doesn't seem so funny now does it?"

"Darla…"

"Angel, get over here, we could use some vampire strength here," Wesley calls.

"Cordy, Fred," he hears Angel say, and he assumes that the two women are now by Darla. Then Angel is between them, and both move to give vampire room to batter down the wall with his fists and feet. Soon enough the wall breaks, wood and plaster shards flying as he enlarges the opening. Cordelia and Fred are first to get through, followed by Gunn and then Wesley.

 ****Denny's Diner, Oxnard – two days later, Eleven p.m. 31. Of October, Wednesday ****

After driving fifty-nine miles from the Hyperion Hotel to finally meet and compare notes and discuss things with Rupert Giles, Wesley is relieved to have a nice meal at Denny's with intelligent conversation.

"Typical, joining casual dining with fast food," says Mr. Giles who is sitting across him. They reserved a quiet corner and privately cast shielding spells to stave off any unwanted listeners.

"But the food was delightful. Thanks for agreeing to meet so early," Wesley answers, while wiping his lips with a napkin, after a good breakfast he was in fact ready for this meeting.

"Quite." Mr. Giles leans back, watching him, assessing him. "I must say, you changed … Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, for the better."

"Afraid that, I had no other choice but to change, to adapt, since my father and Mr. Travers sacked me from the Watcher's Council," he answers and dearly hopes that they'll dispense with the pleasantries now … he is on a time limit …

"Right, I'll go straight to the point," Mr. Giles says. Wesley wonders if the older man read his expression, judging by the slight smile on other Watcher's face that was probable.

"There is a new Slayer in Sunnydale, goes by the name of Amanda Lyndon. She is sixteen years old, and is attending the newly built Sunnydale High," Mr. Giles states, "However the nature of her calling was due to Willow."

"What about Miss Summers? Is she alright?"

"As far as Travers is concerned Buffy died stopping the Hellgoddess on May 22nd," Mr. Giles says much to his shock, why didn't they inform …wait.

"As far as London is concerned?" he asks.

"Yes, they are also unaware of Miss Lyndon being called," Mr. Giles continues. "However Buffy was dead after jumping into the portal, closing it."

Ahh, Wesley thinks as he leans back, that usually works, closing a portal with one's life, but the one sacrificing themselves has to know what they are doing and have to do it willingly, and they have to be healthy and not dying before they jump.

" _Was_?" Wes asks, so Buffy did it again, though how she was revived is a mystery, perhaps it has something to do with Miss Rosenberg and this new girl that was called.

The explanation that followed had Wesley reeling. The Key, something that should never be allowed to exist; there were many disputes within the Watcher's Council and disputes within the Order of Dagon about the existence of The Key.

To think that the Order embodied The Key into a teen, worse set it up as the younger sister of The Slayer. Were they barking insane?

Though what happened next was truly **incredible**.

"That's incredible," Wes says after hearing the entire story, though he shared Miss Maclay's concern about Miss Rosenberg's use of magic.

"So Miss Summers turned into an eight year old by The Key Embodiment."

Mr. Giles chuckles. "Every time this is brought up, she insists that she is almost nine."

"And she has almost no memory of …"

"Almost none, the children were devastated."

Wesley frowns, they were hardly children now. "What will you do about Miss Rosenberg and Mr. Harris?"

Mr. Giles cleans his glasses. "There is nothing I can really do. Tara took Buffy as her own, and they are living separately from the others, along with Amy Madison. Buffy has a new birth certificate and everything. I made sure of that, and Spike helped. Besides I – I'm leaving for England in a week's time, I'd already bought the airplane tickets."

"You what?" Wes almost chokes on that tidbit. "You're _leaving_?"

"The children don't need me anymore and…"

"What about the new Slayer that was called from that botched spell Miss Rosenberg casted, and what do you think somebody that is borderline additive for magic will do when the only one that could stop her leaves?"

"Willow would not hurt Buffy; she cares about her too much."

"She already has harmed her, **good** **God** _**man**_ , think more about it." Wesley is getting worked up at the things going on in Sunnydale. Miss Rosenberg's possible magic addiction aside, she casted a spell that ricocheted, called a new Slayer, put an eight year old in the hospital, and then to cover everything up the idiot woman casted the Tabula Rasa spell. Mr. Giles leaving is the high point of _negligence_ of duty as a person … not only as a Watcher.

"I'll make sure to talk with Willow before I leave," Mr. Giles says. Wesley seriously doubts that this talk will do any good. Perhaps when he has any more time, he'll look in on Sunnydale or something … he isn't sure that telling Angel of what happened to Buffy will do any good.

"What should I tell Angel, that she's dead?"

"I – I don't know, the Council, as I said I informed them of her death and Quentin decided to give Faith another chance, seeing that she voluntarily stays in jail. But it will be three more years until her release."

"I see, if I recall the Watcher Diaries' entry that was about the time frame when a ten year old Slayer was Chosen and we were unable to locate her for three years only to find her in Germany later?"

"Yes I believe her name was Gertrude and she was part of Hitler's Youth program." Mr. Giles nods. "It is not the first time that a Slayer is not available, and children are very capable in keeping the world safe, and Spike volunteered to spar with Amanda."

"She still needs a Watcher."

"Err, yes, I – I have tracked down Fran Merrick."

"You're serious, if I recall correctly that woman said that the next Watcher that shows up on her doorstep will be shot."

"Her brother was Buffy's first Watcher," Mr. Giles says, and then he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Dealing with the woman was painful, but she agreed to take on Amanda; she'll move into Sunnydale in two days."

"I see, well, hearing of a de-aged Slayer, magic addiction, chipped vampires, and other lunacies; it makes me feel better about two vampires fathering a bouncy human baby boy."

"What!?"

 **Next chapter 3** : Spike: **Daughter, the END of Un-life** , so we'll continue with Spike's POV and find out what Wesley and Giles talked about!


	3. Christmas Fluff Chapter

A little Christmas gift, because obviously I won't finish this till New Years!

* * *

 *****Day of Christmas Past – December 2000*****

 **Check list:**

 _ **-Sunday the First of December – Advent Day – buying advent calendar with little chocolates inside, gift buying**_

Tara was browsing the Mall, with little Buffy in tow. She was Christmas shopping for their extended family in Buffy's name. The little girl insisted in getting all of them presents and yes, she knew Willow didn't celebrate Christmas, but she still intended to buy a gift for her regardless. Tara didn't mind she had already wrapped gifts for the rest of Scooby Gang and Mr. Giles.

"Sooo," Buffy blinked her big eyes at her. "What do I get for Christmas?"

"That is a surprise," Tara said, pointing at the music store. Perhaps they'll find something for Mr. Giles there. She herself bought vinyl record of the 60's rock band Cream for Mr. Giles.

"Soo do you already have my presents?"

"Ohh and what makes you think that I already have them?" She did get them of course, and they were already gift wrapped. And just in case, she also bought and gift-wrapped gifts for Buffy that would be from Willow, Xander, and Anya. Just in case their gifts won't be age appropriate. Something she hoped that will not be necessary and she'll be able save those for Buffy's birthday.

"Well, there are bundles in the closet in the hall."

"Oh really, you nosey little girl." Tara laughed, and then she hummed in mock thought, "Then it's a good that I wrapped them, or you'd have spoiled the surprise."

"You can still tell me; I can act surprised," Buffy insisted innocently.

"Nice try, tell you what, I'll buy you that nice Advent calendar that gives you a sweet per day."

"Aww, OK, but the one that has chocolate."

"All right, but when I get home you're helping me make Melting Snowman's."

"What's that?"

"Sweets, made from cacao, sugar, dried fruit, melted chocolate, and marshmallows, that we don't need to bake."

"Ohh yummy."

* * *

 _ **\- Third of December Tuesday- Gift Wrapping Day and deco the Christmas tree**_

Tara was watching Buffy as she slowly and cheerfully wrapped her presents for Willow, a soft red shawl with a brooch in the shape of the Star of David, wrapped in blue paper with tiny white snowflakes.

Then Anya's little box containing a white gold Mjolnir Pendant in a red box with a large red bow. Xander's pendant with his Zodiac sign Capricorn, with his name engraved on the back, wrapped in green paper with prancing reindeers. For Spike a CD-player with a CD of Ramones wrapped in red paper with snowmen.

And for Mr. Giles a carefully wrapped maintenance kit for his acoustic guitar.

"And I'm done with popcorn," Tara said, "now will you help me decorate the Christmas tree?"

"Yep." Buffy stood up and headed to the boxes that Tara brought from the attic in the Summers' house. Each box was carefully labelled by Joyce's hand, not that Buffy recognized it, Tara thought sadly. Tara did tell Buffy about Joyce, but she hadn't known the woman well. That should have been done by Willow and Xander, but they were always too busy, or gave the excuse that they shouldn't talk about that topic, always saying that Buffy would remember in time. Tara thought that that won't ever happen.

"Should we start with this box? There's Tree snow written on it." Buffy pointed at the mentioned box, true enough it was labeled like that. Also near that box were garlands of glass beads and a tin snowflakes labelled box.

"No, I think we should put pulps and glass ornaments on first, so that they don't break." Tara thought for a moment, eyeing the fir tree in the living room, critically.

"Ahh OK." Buffy nodded, and then opened the box labelled glass bubble ornaments.

"So how are my favourite little witches?"

"Spike!" Buffy jumped up and darted like a heat seeking missile to Spike.

"Up you go, Pet." Spike, without missing a beat, picked her up with one hand; there was a huge bag in his other hand, "So did you miss me? Because I missed you."

"I thought you wouldn't come. Xander said that Christmas is not a vampire thing."

"Ohh and how would Harris know, he's not a vampire is he?"

"Nope." Buffy shook her head and scrunched up her nose. "Xander doesn't start to smoke when sunlight hits him. And he walks in even if I never invited him into the house. But I'm glad you are spending Christmas with us."

"Eh, like I would miss presents and free gravy from the roast. And booze and your and Glinda's company."

"Just in time Spike, help with decorating the tree will you?" Tara motioned at the unopened boxes.

"Sure just after I unload the presents for Nibbles and you."

Buffy's round eyes zeroed in on the heavy sack that Spike carefully put down. "Just for us?"

"Yep you are on my good people list, the rest are on my naughty list and they get …"

"What, what!"

"Coal and a whipping stick." Then Spike winked, "I think Red and Anya will like it."

"Spike, Willow and I are not into that sort of thing. And don't talk like that in front Buffy."

"Sure, sure."

"And put out that cigarette!"

"Wasn't going to light it, Glinda!"

"I don't care, put it away!"

* * *

 _ **-25 December – Gift opening – Merry Christmas to every one! (Breaking fourth wall here, "I wish every reader, follower and reviewer of this story Marry Christmas") **_

"And so Ebenezer Scrooge learned the meaning of Christmas," Tara concluded her reading of A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens.

"Thank you for reading this story Tara." Giles was smiling fondly at the blond witch; he was touched that the children decided to read instead of watching television. It made him nostalgic.

"Mhm," nodded Buffy who was sprawled on the ground with Spike, who was dangling a feather in front of Miss Kitty Fantastico. "I like how the three spirits helped Mr. Scrooge with the Christmas loving."

"And now it's time for presents," Tara announced. "I'll go first," she said and with that presented colourfully wrapped gifts to each individual. When Buffy got hers, the wrapping paper was sent flying, much to Tara's amusement at the little girl's enthusiasm.

"Ohh wow," she breathed then quickly put the necklace over her head. The Triple Moon pendant proudly shining in the lights from the Christmas tree. "I love it, thank you Tara," Buffy thanked her, holding the silver pendant in her tiny hand.

"You do know the meaning of that don't you, Buffy?" Tara decided to use every opportunity to teach Buffy, giving her presents or reading the story.

Buffy nodded. "Yep, it represents the Goddess. The waxing moon stands for the Maiden and symbolizes purity, youth, new life, beginnings, rejuvenation, excitement, enchantment, and expansion. The full moon represents the Mother and represents fulfilment, fertility, ripeness, potency, compassion, giving, caring, nurturing, protection, and power. The waxing moon represents the Crone and stands for repose, maturity, wisdom, experience, knowledge, understanding, completion, death, and rebirth," she listed, like she was reading from the book.

"That's right, I'm glad you're improving on your lessons," Tara praised, ignoring the startled look on everybody's faces, except Spike's. He had already known that Tara was considering teaching the little one.

"Em, honey, you're teaching her magic?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Willow."

"Why? I mean she is a slayer," Willow started to babble, "And we, me and you, are already doing magic stuff and Buffy has the slayer stuff …"

"She is a child, Willow."

"Ohh I hope we'll get lots of pricey gifts so that we can sell them and get money for our wedding," Anya's voice interrupted what would probably cause an argument, so Tara was grateful for it. She didn't want another argument about Buffy, not now.

"Ahn, no _talkyabaoutthat_ ," Xander rushed, putting hand over her mouth.

"Now open the two other boxes, Buffy," Tara encouraged, causing Buffy to dive at her pile of two and again ripping the paper off, revealing a 1001 Arabian Nights story book and a Plushy of a reindeer.

"You'll be named Jolly," she declared to the stuffed toy animal.

"I'm sure you live through disappointments every night Demon Girl." Spike's declaration drew attention to the three arguing supposed adults in the corner.

"Hey, and who invited you Dead Boy junior?" Xander exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Spike.

"Not somebody who misplaced his Christmas spirit; go on like that Harris and you'll be visited by the Spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future," Spike drawled.

"Shut it."

"Hey!" Willow stood up from the couch, where she was holding her own present from Tara. "No arguing before dinner."

"But we can after dinner, right Red?" Spike's scared eyebrow went up.

"Shush you, see this is my resolve face, you all know what this means; Tara worked hard so get along for today."

"Thank you Willow." Tara nodded; then passed to her the rest of the presents for them.

Spike's present drew a delighted laugh from him, and he actually put the bomber type leather jacket on and hugged Tara in thanks, while putting the nail polish into his pocket.

Willow quickly put her scented candles and Elvis Presley CD into their bedroom and put on the golden necklace with the golden pendant engraved with Chai*.

Xander was happily munching on the sweets and reading the back of the book titled _'Everyday_ _Handyman'_ , the multi-tool resting on his lap. Anya was fervently thumbing through her book – Tara knew that _Kama Sutra_ was the ideal present for her.

"Yes rather, I would enjoy the quiet," Giles remarked while he unwrapped the bottle of Gin. Tara winced; she forgot that that was Spike's gift to the man.

"And the gin," Spike added, eyeing the gigantic bottle.

"Yes, thank you Spike, but considering your habit in raiding my liquor cabinet, I should enjoy it while the gift lasts."

"True enough Watcher, true enough."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Giles, I mixed up the presents," Tara apologized, passing another, almost identically shaped gift to the startled watcher. "That was Spike's present for you."

Giles unwrapped the gift, to reveal a vintage gittern**. "Oh, thank you Tara," he breathed as he ran his hand over the smooth wood.

"Uh that's some small guitar," Xander remarked.

"Xander." Giles polished his glasses. "I'm aware that knowledge of acoustic music instruments is not your forte; this is not a guitar, this is a gittern that was widespread during the thirteenth century in Western Europe.

"And" Spike threw his newspaper wrapped, and taped together presents at the people's faces, "this is for the rest of ya lot."

"Oi, I'm not wearing this." Xander showed them the T-Shirt with _'Spike rules'_ written in a bold red, and _'Poncy Droopy Boy Harris drools'_.

"Put it on, Harris; I'm wearing yours, you should wear mine, or you will ruin Christmas."

"I loathe you," hissed Xander, making Spike smirk in satisfaction at the expression Xander sported.

"Sure, sure." Spike grinned in anticipation; he knew that Harris got him a T-shirt with _'Vampires Suck'_ written on it. Harris probably thought it would be funny for a vampire to wear this. He didn't expect his gift to backfire on him, HA! It was good that the lady who sold those shirts was a friend of Spike and was prone to chatting

"Thanks for the sweater, Spike," Willow said, while eyeing the pink puffy sweater that had leaves and cherries.

Tara was holding her bluish green glass Witch's ball, admiring how light breaks down at the blue-green glass surface; she knew that Spike didn't mean any insult; the spheres were meant to ward off evil spells, spirits, or curse of the evil eye.

Buffy was staring at the huge; it was bigger than she was, Victorian Dollhouse.

Anya was proudly showing a very embarrassed Xander a pair of fluffy handcuffs.

"Me next," jumped an excited Buffy, and she ran to the three to bring her presents over. "This is for you, Mr. Giles."

"Just Giles, child," Giles corrected the little reincarnation of his Slayer. "Oh a cleaning kit for my guitar, thank you Buffy."

"You should play us some Christmas songs, Tara says your singing is very nice," bubbled Buffy in excitement then she darted back to the tree to retrieve Spike's present.

"Spike this is for you." She was practically jumping in glee, when the bleach blonde vampire stared at the CD-player and the CD. "'ell, I'd be damned, this is … thank you Buffy." Buffy nodded then whispered, "I made another present for you and Tara, I have them in my room," then darted for the next present.

Shoving the wrapped small boxes into the hands of Anya, Willow, and Xander, they started to cautiously open their presents.

"Wow," Anya said when she looked at her Mjolnir Pendant. "That is solid gold, and I can't sell it damn it, why couldn't you have bought me a golden bunny instead. Those are evil and deserve to be sold for money."

Buffy giggled and patted Anya on the shoulder, giving the former demon a quick hug, while keeping an eye on Willow and Xander who were very carefully unwrapping her gifts.

"Thanks," came from Willow, her eyes firmly on the brooch of the Star of David.

"Happy Hanukkah, Willow," Buffy said seriously stepping closer to the redhead, who leaned under the table to retrieve her gifts, halting Buffy, who eyed her for a moment then turned to Xander, who was … exiting the room, calling back that nature calls, thanks for the gift Buffy, and go on without me.

Tara frowned; holding her own gift, a silk shawl, from Buffy, she knew that her little girl just wanted to hug her lover and was prevented in doing so and judging by the guilty conscience on her lover's and Xander's faces they did it on purpose. Did they think Buffy didn't notice?

"Tara, honey, here this is for you from me," Willow said, smiling while handing over her present. It was a music box, with her favourite melody. Tara smiled, how thoughtful of Willow. The gentle smile was quickly wiped out when she spied the confused face of Buffy who was holding,

"You don't remember right now, but you absolutely loved Gavin Rossdale," Willow was saying, "and those are the posters of your favourite actors: James Spader, Daniel Craig, and Christian Bale from your favorite movies."

"Uh, thank you, Willow," Buffy still confused thanked the redhead. Tara quickly stepped over and gave Buffy her damage control gift. "You forgot to give her this, Willow," she said.

Buffy unwrapped the present and immediately her expression went from confusion to happiness and joy. She gave a little happy squeal and attacked Willow, who was too surprised to move, with a hug.

Letting Willow go, who quickly put some distance between them, Buffy hugged her new porcelain doll of a Victorian noble lady. "Her name is Joan," she declared then skipped toward the Dollhouse to play, her confusion over the rest of presents forgotten.

Giles put the gift from Willow, a book Tara saw, on the table; Spike got a mug with Manchester United on it; Xander's gift waited for his return on his spot beside Anya, who was glaring daggers at Willow, her gift 'Book of Manners' thrown under the table.

"Xander is back and ready to give gifts to ya all," said Xander strolling into the living room.

"For Willow, my bestest bud," he brandished a gift at Willow, who smiled and opened it, revealing a DVD of A Charlie Brown Christmas. "Now you don't need to sneak (to) my place to watch it."

"Thank you, Xander."

"And for you my bestest girlfriend," he gave a large rectangular box to Anya, who unwrapped it to reveal … a Catwoman costume. "You're the only Catwoman for me Ahn," he declared to the beaming Anya.

"For G-man." He presented Mr. Giles with a smaller box.

"Do not call me that Xander and thank you for this." He pulled out a checker patterned cravat from his box.

"You better wear it Spike," he pointed, laughing at the vampire on the couch, who was smoking.  
"Sure whelp, I have no problem, Vampires do suck … blood that is." And true to his words, Spike pulled the T-shirt on.

"This is for you," Xander presented another large rectangular box to Buffy.

"Umm is this another costume for Anya, this is too big for me."

"Nah, this costume is for you next Halloween."

"Haha, don't kid the kid, whelp," Spike jumped in. "This is obviously a gift for Glinda," with that he threw the contents at Tara who caught it. "You meant this for the little one, didn't you?" and Spike pulled out a gift wrapped long box, and gave it to Buffy, who opened it and again hugged Xander. "Thank you for the bow and arrow, Xander."

"Oh thank you, this is best Christmas EVER!" exclaimed Buffy, her eyes shining as she looked at the presents piled all over the living room.

* * *

 **THE END** of chapter of Christmas Past … the next, regular, _**chapter of 'Breaking the Hourglass' is coming soon.**_

* * *

*Willow present - golden necklace with golden pendant engraved with Chai - This symbol, commonly seen on necklaces and other jewellery and ornaments, is simply the Hebrew word Chai (living), with the two Hebrew letters Cheit and Yod attached to each other.

**Giles's present - gittern was a relatively small gut strung round-backed instrument that first appears in literature and pictorial representation during the 13th century in Western Europe


	4. Spike: Daughter – END of Un-life

**Chapter summary** : Events from Spike's; Amanda's ; Oz's; Giles and Tara's POVs.

 **Disclaimers'** are in the first chapter.

 **Additional Disclaimer** : Oz Comics, Oz centered novels – I did NOT read any of it, EVERYTHING: references', events and characters are from WIKI. So I'm sure that some things PROBABLY won't be even close to what happened …

Chapter 3: **Spike: Daughter – END of Un-life**

 ***** Giles' flat – 30 of October 2001, nightfall *****

"So if we're casting protection on little Nibbles," Spike says, "What do you need me for?" Because if he remembers correctly, when Tara went over the spell specifics with Buffy and him, she told them then that he can't be present when the spell is cast, because he is vampire. If he had been a demon, that would not be an issue.

"And why is Scabbers here?" He tilts his head toward little Tamarina aka Buffy who is petting a very content rat. Then after Buffy gives him a look, and a wink, she pets said rat in the way Dr. Evil does with his white cat, and Spike chuckles. They had a blast watching those movies, very late at night. Glinda was annoyed at them both, but she had admitted that until school starts Nibbles can stay up late, much to the kid's joy.

Spike sometimes wonders if the rat is becoming more humanlike in behavior … nahh, he is probably imagining things. Buffy is often talking to the girl turned rat … and the rat listens. So who bloody knows what's happening in that head?

Not that he knows what is happening in Nibbler's pretty blonde head either. Perhaps he should get her a present … a pony … every little Princess wants a pony. Whelp would blow a gasket … ohh, perhaps a puppy. Buffy won't let the pup starve like Dru did with Miss Sunshine. …

Or a hellhound cross; he knows a breeder who crossed a hellhound successfully with a husky; it would be something that'll be able to protect her…from vampires and at least some weaker demons. Ohh that will be priceless, he'd make Buffy happy and it'll annoy the hell outta Harris.

"Huh, didn't page you for a Harry Potter fan," Tara comments, while setting the stones, the herbs, and the runes into proper positions. Giles has already cleansed the room of any malignant influence before they arrived.

"I'm not, but Buffy is, so I've read a couple of books."

And he did the bloody lot of them. They were alright, he supposes, sometimes however he had a bad feeling about Dumbles and that wimpy Malfoy, that tosser just got on his nerves. Not to mention the teasing value of the Witchy girl turned rat he'll have when Amy is back to her original human form.

"You'll go out to stand guard, so we won't be interrupted, because once we start casting we can not stop," Giles explains. Spike resists the urge to roll his eyes at the Watcher, barely. He already knew that, heck Giles knew that.

"Will I cast a spell too?" Buffy suddenly asks, looking away from Amy, who is contently watching the proceedings.

"Actually Buffy …" Giles starts, gently.

"You will be the most important person here, Buffy," Tara interjects before Giles can say no.

"You will be sitting in the middle of the circle, and you'll have your own chant. Now, did you learn the worlds I gave you?" she asks, as she crouches before Buffy and Amy.

"Yes." Buffy nods resolutely and Spike knows she did, after all he had helped her with pronouncing the Latin words.

Tara smiles. "Then I suggest you keep repeating them so that you won't miss pronounce anything."

It will give the protection spell an added potency with two people weaving the protection from outside the magic circle, she, Tara, chanting in Welsh, and Giles chanting the same words in Hawaiian.

Tara was surprised, about one thing trough, that Buffy was so accepting of her name and surname change, well Buffy is still her name, but instead of Anne, it's become her middle name.

"OK," Buffy says, then goes and climbs on the sofa and starts to chant. "Obsectro te, terra mater est, ut det mihi praesidium de malus. Da mihi arma."

Tara smiles, the little one's pitch and pronouncements are perfect, and she learned the words well. She also has shown aptitude for Latin, and some other languages. But that is probably either Dawn's or Mr. Giles's influence from that joining spell they casted to defeat Adam. Tara wasn't part of the group then, or rather she did not feel like part of them, yet.

Mr. Giles frowns in concern. "Tara is this wise? To let Buffy ..." he starts delicately, as to not hurt Buffy, Tara knows that, but she still hurries to stop him from saying more.

"Mr. Giles, the best protection comes from power within as well as outside casting, according to my great grandmother's teachings," Tara says, and she is teaching Buffy, who sucks up magical theory like a dry sponge.

Tara only hopes that the girl … her daughter, she has to look at Buffy, no, Tamarina as her own child, then sighs and turns toward Spike who is currently watching Buffy as she practices her Latin chant. "I checked and this is the safest method, and Spike sorry but …"

"No harm done, Glinda, and hey I'm a defanged Big Bad ... but still Bad so I can not be here, but I can beat up anything that shows up on Watcher's doorstep," Spike replies, turning and exiting the apartment.

"To think that there were such spells in that book," Tara hears Mr. Giles mutter when he thumbs over her great, great, great grandmother's book.

She knew that her ancestor liked to mix languages and spells, from Latin to Welsh, from Chinese to Egyptian, even from Hawaiian to Galician, and Tara was surprised to learn from the book that the last two were Hindi and Persian. She, herself, is learning a lot as well, while teaching B … Tamarina.

"How her great, great, great grandmother learned all those spells and in their native language, is mystery, unless she traveled the Ghost roads to reach those far away places. Tara feared that if Willow kept insisting in having her way; despite everything…Tara will have to ask her Ancestors for advice with a spell, or pack her bags and use the Ghost Roads to escape Sunnydale, or America all together.

She can not help but smile slightly at the irony; if Glory didn't do what she did, if Buffy died and not regressed to an eight year old, she would have never thought of this book. And Amy would have stayed a rat for a while longer, or at least until Willow recalled Amy the Rat again and tried another spell of restoration on her.

"Mr. Giles it's ready," Tara says, then waves Buffy over, "first we will do the protection spell on you Buffy, then we, Mr. Giles, you, and me, will cast a spell to de-rat Amy."

"Okay I'm ready," Buffy says nodding and sat in the circle Tara prepared.

"All right, Mr. Giles," Tara starts to say, when she sees that Mr. Giles is looking at Buffy with a very sad look.

"Terribly sorry," he murmurs. "I just had hopes that this would not have been necessary."

"That is understandable, Mr. Giles," Tara says.

"Please, Tara, Rupert or just Giles, we've known each other for a while now."

"Giles, then." Tara smiles at the Watcher.

"If I may ask, why name her Tamarina?"

"Huh?"

"Why name Buffy, Tamarina?"

"Oh, it has been a family tradition, on my mother's side of the family, to name female children Ta – something," Tara explains. It was something her mother explained to her, that the word Ta held some meaning. But that meaning of the word Ta is lost in time, but the first woman of her line was named Taa.

"I don't know, what the meaning of the word Ta is, but it was around for centuries and Buffy loves the seaside, so marina was added and so Tamarina."

"I'd like to hear more about this, if you're amenable?"

"Of course," Tara agrees, inwardly smiling at the man's curious mind. "After we cast a spell on Amy to turn her back to her human form, I'll be happy to set up a time. In either case, Buffy will be present after all, since even if she is adopted … I also casted the 'Koko Ohana' spell, so she is of my blood now as well."

At Giles's curious look, she elaborates. "It's a spell that links us together through blood, in other words we are now blood related."

"Is it similar to Teulu Gwaed?" Blood family in Welsh, Tara knows the meaning of the question Giles asked.

"Diversion, the Hawaiian is older, more potent." And unlike a Welsh spell, a lot more detailed ingredients were needed, a simple spell to work but with hard pre-work.

Giles takes off his glasses and polishes them in nervous circles. "Why go so far?" he inquires quietly. "You have already done so much. Why create a blood relation link? That spell is used when Sorceress bloodlines are dying out; to accept a child that's not family into their blood..."

"Because, before all of this happened, I considered both Buffy and Dawn my sisters, and not just friends. And Buffy needs a parent, and I want to take her as a daughter, not just because I want a child, but because Buffy asked me to be her mommy," Tara states. "I could not refuse her plea, how could I?"

Not that Tara is in any hurry to actually have a child. Willow hadn't shown any desire for having children, not that Tara blamed her lover. Most victims of vampires were children, and it seemed cruel to bring an innocent life into this world. They didn't even discuss the possibilities in going to a clinic to get pregnant; or ask a close friend to "help" or even adopt.

"I suppose not, now shall we cast the spell? I believe we waited long enough," Giles says, and sits down, prepared to start his part of the spell.

"Amddiffyn y plentyn ferch," Tara starts to chant in Welsh, "Clywed ple mam hwn o'r Awyr, Tân, y Ddaear, Dŵr ac Ysbryd ddiogelwch ar gyfer grant Tamarina Buffy Maclay née Buffy Anne Summers."

 _"It was not easy …I went through every supplier The Magic Box has; it would be easier to get the Urn of Osiris; found one on eBay, but that's only to resurrect dead people."_

 _"You used the Magic Box's suppliers? What if Giles finds out?"_

 _"He is too busy not leaving to pay attention to me, besides I ended up getting it at a Garage sale."_

 _"Wait, Garage sale, how'd that happened; wasn't this rarer than that Urn thing?"_

 _"The owner of the house thought it was interesting paper weight. So I got it cheap."_

 _"Uh-hu you got your somber on, Will, the sphere not up to specs?"_

 _"It's the right one."_

 _"Of course, no other sphere, than the Haumea Sphere, looks like an eight colored pearl."_

 _"Which means it is time."_

 _"All right, let's get started. We're bringing our Buffy back."_

 _"Right this minute."_

 _"Well we have to set up the items for the spell first."_

 _"All right, campers, let's get this show on the road. I want to go home knowing that Buffster is up and about tonight!"_

 ***** Giles' flat, outside*****

Spike is leaning on the wall, smoking his cigarette. His senses mostly tuned to the night; the last thing that the little group inside Watcher's flat needs are visitors, demons, and vamps or … Whelp and Red or Anya coming to badger about cash or something.

He lets his mind wander, how funny turns in life, or in his case unlife, can take. From Big Bad, Slayer of Slayers, two of them, to the protector of one.

He still recalls his first kill, the Chinese Slayer during the Boxer rebellion. She nearly had him, fortunately an explosion made her to lose her balance and he got the upper hand.

Alright so he lied to Buffy, about that 'death wish' the Chinese girl had. First: he got lucky with that explosion and second Slayer: there was no death wish in that one either; he just out fought her and he could see that the fire was not out of her yet, just before he snapped her neck.

His Third Slayer he had meet in Sunnydale: he fought her, repeatedly to a draw, usually ending with a strategic retreat by him. She was one of the perkiest, spunkiest … prettiest Slayers he had the pleasure to dance with. It was no wonder that he'd fallen for her when he got to know her a little better, thanks to Soldier Boys. The Slayer was turned into a little bitty poppet.

That Glinda the Good Witch and he kind of adopted Buffy, but little Nibbler better not call him papa or he'd have to do something evil… like tell Captain Forehead that he had a bouncy baby girl, and Angel can stick his soul and the hair gel up there where the sun doesn't shine …well probably.

Who'd have thought that Spike is looking forward to raising a Slayer with a human Wicca? If somebody had told him something like that years earlier, he'd probably laugh in their face and then smash a bottle of beer on the poor sod's face.

And how in the world did Tara and he become so close that he actually looks at her and thinks, yes we'll raise an eight year old together.

Oh yeah, when little Buffy looked at them with those big, big blue-green eyes under her white blonde bangs, jutted out her lower lip and asked if they'd be her mommy and daddy.

He was a goner then; he loved Grown up Slayer, but this little one stole his unbeating heart just as well. It almost destroyed him, when he saw the Slayer's dead broken body at the foot of Bitch goddess' tower; only his promise to her, that he'll protect Dawn, held him together.

But then Dawn was gone, and puff, alive kid slayer sleeping at the foot of the tower. Better to have a little kid with her whole life ahead, than dead and buried, eh?

Not that Droopy Wanker and Maleficent where did that sweet, fluffy pink sweater wearing redhead go agreed with that. They wanted the older Buffy back, whatever the cost. Not that they paid any attention to the fine print.

Of course his evil ways weren't finished when those arses of soldier boys and mad scientists put that sodding chip in his head. Oh no, no, it wasn't a soul, even if it was, Spike definitely won't be found moping for centuries like Angel's _'Buhu, poor me, I have a soul, so I have to be all Batman with the Bat Mobil_ '.

He still had minions, had, as in he doesn't have them anymore. Mostly they went to Harm; dumb as a post, that one. Not that they stayed with her, though he is pretty sure that they are all piles of ashes already. Good minions are hard to find with an active Slayer around….

"Bloody hell …" he exclaims, as the door behind him explodes, and judging by the sound any glass that Giles has shatters.

"Spike, your bike, get on your bike!" he hears Tara yell; he doesn't think as he dives for his motorbike, and just as the machine roars to life, Glinda pushes Nibbler in his arms, and a metallic scent of blood hits his nose.

"Wha …" he starts when he catches sight of a pale face and trails of red that drip from the child's nose, mouth, and even her ears and the corners of her eyes.

"No time, you need to get Buffy to the Hospital as quickly as you can, she needs a transfusion," she says, as she straps Buffy as securely as she can.

"All right." And so he is off, like a bullet. Better not be Whelp and Red's doing, he thinks as the machine pulls up before the hospital.

But who is he kidding, he knows that this is entirely Red's doing. This can't go on like this; sooner or later something will break.

And he'll be damned if he lets it be Buffy. He failed to prevent Buffy jumping to close that portal; or rather he failed to protect Dawn from Doc. Never again will he fail, he thinks as he speeds up to the front of the hospital, the closest one to the Watcher's flat…the smallest in Sunnydale, but also one of the safest from vampire visits.

Little Nibbler _**better**_ be alright, Spike vows, or there will be **Hell** to _**pay**_.

 ***** Back at the flat*****

"It looks like we cast the spell in the nick of time." Tara is pacing the room, setting things up for releasing Amy from her rat form. She wants to be with Spike in the Hospital; she needs to know that Buffy is all right, but Amy doesn't need to be trapped a moment longer than necessary. Besides she couldn't go to the Hospital with Spike, and casting the spell and then letting Giles drive her is the better opinion.

"It was still close," Tara clenches her hands, the pale bloody face of her child engraved in her mind; her nails bite into her palm. "This time Willow went too far; she used the Slayer essence in this spell, Giles."

"What?"

"When we were warding, you Mr. Giles, took the person who grounds the spell in; I was the blood shield affect, a person who waves protections, and therefore I was able to glean the properties of the spell that attacked my daughter's very source of her Slayer power."

Then she takes calming breaths; "I didn't realize that she was still a Slayer, not a Potential, but an actual Slayer. But when Willow cast hers, the essence was pulled to force Buffy to – to return but our spell interfered and as designed sent a backslash to Willow."

"Which that means, Willow is suffering now," Giles mutters. "Good God, that child."

"Actually I'm more worried about..." Tara really didn't worry for Willow, at the moment; Buffy could have bled to death, when most of the Slayer essence was pulled from her.

Willow's backslash that will be coming at her is not nearly enough payment for that. "The nearest Potential Slayer that just received the siphoned power from the Slayer essence."

" _What_?"

"There is third Slayer active now. Before when Buffy died for the second time, her successor was already activated, her death didn't call forth another Slayer and it followed that line naturally. The Slayer line was not split. Now there are two lines of Slayers."

Then she puts a small basin on the table, full of wheat and chunks of coal to represent Earth, eagle feathers for Air, fish scales to represent Water, and to represent Fire she lights the contents that burned with a multi colored flame. Turning the content of the basin into black, glittery mush, she pours in salted water for purification and then she dips a branch of olive tree leaves in.

Then she touches Amy the Rat with the damp leaves and chants.

 ***** Somewhere in Sunnydale*****

She has just finished her homework, and is getting ready to go out to the Bronze, the teen hangout – where she'll meet with Cassandra Newton, hoping that tomorrow Max won't bully her, or she'll do something drastic one of these days.

Like smash his face into the pavement, no matter how hot he looks. Which is one of the things that saved his pretty face, that and she didn't want to disappoint Principal Robin Wood.

She stands before the mirror, eyeing her red T-shirt and faded out jeans. "Not too bad," she says, "Now if only my face wasn't so long," she sighs, yeah OK so her personal bully has a point of calling her _'long_ _face'_ or _'donkey_ _face'_ but she'll still do something if he won't stop.

She dreams of smashing his face in…

"Hey dad, I'm going to the Bronze now," she yells when she runs past her father who is watching TV.

"Be back before midnight, please!" comes her mom's voice behind her.

"I will," with that she means she'll try; after all her favorite band is playing tonight, and perhaps she'll manage to convince Cassie to finally go out with that long time crush of hers. Cassie always declines though, and it is mind boggling.

 *****Bronze*****

As expected, the band 'Oyster Orange' is tearing up the stage, and there is a lot of dancing, predictably Cassie declined the invitation to dance with Mike.

"Why do you do **that**? I know you like Mike," she asks her friend, who again changed the color of her hair, well the tips of a couple of blonde strands, now they are green.

"Do what, _ohh_." Cassie makes a face that she always does when she hears this question. "I'd love to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. And I'd love to watch my cousins grow up, see who they become, cause they're really mean and I think they're going to be fat. And I've never been to the Louvre. I'd love to see the Mona Lisa. Or meet Peter Falk. Or backpack across the country. Or, I don't know … fall in love. But I won't. I just never will. My circumstances haven't changed. Though yours did …" Cassie finishes with a wide eyed gasp; she looks at her like she'll grow a second head or something.

"What do you mean …" she starts to ask, when dizziness and power rushes through her, making her both weak she suspects that she'd be on the ground now if she'd been standing and strong, like she'll be able to press bench a car with ease now.

"Come on," Cassie suddenly says.

"Come where?"

"You need to get out."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but you must."

"All right Cassie. I'll trust you," she says; she always trusts her reclusive friend, they bonded over being … well … them whatever that meant.

"We need to take cue sticks," Cassie says when she walks by the rack where the cue sticks that are not currently in use rest. She takes a wooden stick without a second thought, but when she holds it, she feels the thrill of a fight. Weird thought, _that_.

They walk down the street, right by a pretty girl. She frowns at the girl; she knows her from swing choir. Sarah something…that just joined their group, she looks scared … _why_?

 _ **Oh that's why**_ , she thinks as she finally sees Sarah being grabbed and dragged into the ally. She can hear the struggle even as far away as she is and before she can process the thought … she moves.

The scene she stumbles upon is like from some B movie … a blonde woman, a vampire, and the scared damsel in distress.

"Don't be scared, I'm going to kill him," says the blonde Catwoman.

The other guy, the one with fangs … that she knows is a vampire, how does she know _that_?

"Slayer …"

That word, it is so … familiar. Like a beat of her heart.

"You should run away now." The blonde … Slayer, the vampire had called her, says to Sarah.

The vampire tries to run, but …"Not you," the slayer says and takes off after the vampire, who violently shoves a dumpster at her, trying to block her, but catwoman-slayer runs across the top of it and leaps off it, tackling the retreating vampire.

They are almost at her feet, but she just observes them, waiting for … what an opening, if she remembers her 'Dungeons and Dragons' correctly; a wooden stake through the heart, and lookie she has one long wooden stick in her hand.

When the slayer is hit with a bottle that the vampire smashes across her face…

"Y- You are machine!" True to the squirming vampire's words, the gash on the catwom- …err robot's forehead exposes wires and electrical circuitry.

"Thank you," the robot says to the vampire that starts to back away, and the robot starts to follow, but much to her amusement veers to one side and walks into a wall.

"Stop…" the robot says when she bumps into the wall and bounces off only to repeat the process. "Vampires beware!"

She sees the vampire grin when he turns away from the robot …

"The Slayer is a robot, little girl, and it won't help you, being stuck like a kid's toy in a corner."

An almost feral smile breaks out on her face; she flips her long chestnut hair over her shoulder; "but I don't need the robot's help," she says.

"This is your changed fate, Amanda," she hears her friend Cassandra mutter behind her. "It's your birthright."

Amanda's hands tighten on the smooth wooden surface, her heart rate speeding up in anticipation as the vampire advances toward her and she goes to meet it, armed with a piece of wood.

But that is OK, as she is Amanda the Vampire Hunter …. Slayer has such a savage ring to it…she'd rather use the word Hunter … no Huntress, yes or Guardian of the Human Race, _nahh_ that's too long and not catchy … and then the vampire swings at her and she hits it, sending it flying.

"You are a Slayer … a new Slayer," he says fearfully.

"No, I am Amanda; I'm a Huntress of Evil," Amanda states, standing tall, staring down at her prey.

She has this covered. And dad says that playing Dungeons and Dragons is useless in real life.

 *****Airport LA*****

The smells are as always metallic, electric, people, and also very overwhelming. Not that that is a problem, no he has more control over his Other half than he had when he was a teen, when he made his first return home … Should he pay a visit to Angel's group, or should he go directly in Sunnydale, where the head monk Yeshe of Atiśa Monastery said he needs to be?

Sunnydale is no longer his home, but Master Yeshe insisted that he should return at least once more. He is a bit reluctant to return to Sunnydale, after all, the last time he was there he nearly killed Tara, Willow's girlfriend. Got captured by some soldiers and tortured by mad scientists.

Willow had moved on with her love, and it still hurt. Perhaps Yeshe saw his pain and unfinished business and deemed it necessary for him to return there?

Where is his home, only time will tell?

But he is here with one of the Tibetan monks, named Tenzin, who went with him to help any fellow werewolves on the Hellmouth, as he had his transformation under control. Tenzin even helped develop Bayarmaa, who was his own niece, and like Tenzin, was a breed of Werewolf that was more common in Asia and Europe.

Lycanthropus Exterus, their look is completely different from him when Tenzin and Bay transform; they walk partly upright, have a more canine-like head with an enlarged snout he had a short snout when a werewolf. Their transformation differs from his as well; his lasts from sunset until sunrise. Tenzin's and Bay's kind transforms at moonrise and remain in wolf form until moonset.

He likes Bayarmaa, when he woke up naked at his first sunrise in Atiśa Monastery after his second return to Tibet, Bay was there waiting with butter tea and they meditated together. She also told him then about the original Tibetan religion Bon, the religion based on seeing the spiritual life in all things in the world that gave the werewolf's wholesome means of control over their lycanthropy.

Bayarmaa also has a small present for Willow in her luggage. Silver Chab Chab jewelry consisting of a brooch, a main part to which various small utensils are attached with small chains; like a toothpick, a small spoon for cleaning the ears, pincers and knives for manicure.

Along with Bay and Tenzin, he is travelling with Jinan, a teenager and a Kaohsiung demon, who when in her human form looks like a petite Chinese girl. He had meet Jinan when he looked up Giles' friend Qing, who was her father, in Hong Kong, after he managed to escape Cain, again.

Apparently Buffy bending Gib Cain's shotgun like a pretzel hadn't discourage the chauvinistic man to let go of hunting werewolves for pelts. He really doubts that anything ever will.

"So this is America, huh?" Jinan comments, looking curiously around the airport. She certainly changed a bit in the year that he knew her. For one she now has her hair in twin pigtails. He has no idea why. She looks nice though.

"Just the airport," is his answer, short like always, but his companions don't seem to mind. Neither did his friends in Sunnydale, part of him whispers. And he does miss them. All of them. Not so much the yearly Apocalypse stopping though.

He misses the friendship he had with Xander Harris. Though their beginning wasn't stellar, he knew that Xander didn't like him because he dated Willow and was jealous of him. But Xander's main target for a jealousy attack was Angel, and that made it possible for Xander to gradually warm up to him.

 **Even** **when** he was angry with Xander, twice, once he punched him in retaliation, and when Xander and Willow kissed that one time. He thought that it was understandable; he knew that Willow had at one point been in love with Xander for long time. And the biggest factor: they thought, they going to die. And one kiss in that situation was not _cheating_. But a little mistake like that was totally forgivable. Besides Xander still had that identity issue when he saw him last, perhaps Tenzin, who is bringing a gift to Xander, a necklace made from Dzi beads to ward amorous demonic entities away, will be able to straighten Xander out?

He'll have to broach the subject when Xander is alone, since Xander was always touchy about appearing woundable, especially before Buffy or Willow. Like Willow or Buffy would love Xander less. Like he had told his friend that time; Xander has identity issues.

He always got on well with Buffy, and he still respects her greatly. Even if part of that is his Wolf parts acknowledging her Slayer parts as a higher predator. But that didn't change the fact that she confided in him on many occasions and after he left for the second time, she took the time to talk to him, and they said their good byes as good friends. They were _always_ good friends.

He also brought her a present; in light of her stepping up on her spiritual training just before he left for the second time, a polished box made from Sandalwood containing the set of eight auspicious symbols, Ashtamangala, and a kīla dagger.

He runs his hand through his auburn hair; he really doesn't want to dwell on Willow right now. He'll meet her and the others soon enough, he thinks when he follows his companions to a bus that is headed to Sunnydale.

 *****Arrival to Sunnydale*****

A couple of hours later they disembark the vehicle, collect their handheld luggage, and he goes to get a taxi.

After a half an hour drive, luckily uneventful as in no demon attacks, and what is odd about that is that the streets are unnaturally quiet, they pull up before Giles's home. He figured that they'll probably end up there eventually.

As he raises his hand to ring the doorbell, he hears yelling. They are arguing, but not wanting to prolong their stay, he presses the bell. After all even a group such as them can get attacked at night like this.

 ***** Inside Giles' flat*****

It is pandemonium, Spike thinks; it's day, still one hour or so till nightfall, and so it is his turn to be at the so called Scooby meeting that nowadays is always in Watcher's dig.

And he really wishes that he'd brought some cigarettes, but Watcher was yammering about how it's _'urgent, Spike, at least one of you have to be here_.' He supposes that means that this meeting has to be about what Red did, that pissed Glinda off so much that she was practically vibrating anger when she joined him at Hospital. Tara didn't tell him anything, she didn't have to, and he knew her expressions well. Spike did spend a lot of his daylight hours up in Buffy's room with her. They bonded when they looked after and took care of Mini Buffy, and that was the reason why he knew.

He also knows that he'll have to go to the meeting place, because Tara still needs to cool down. Or she'll go off on those two berks. That would not be a bad thing in his opinion; however she'd probably feel bad after that. Well he has no qualms; he will tell those two exactly what it is they've done and he'll enjoy every bloody minute of it.

That was the original plan. That went to back burner as soon as he'd thrown off his blanket and was nearly staked by a brunette. But no thanks to the wankers in the flat, no, he was stopped from fitting to an ashtray, by a lovely blue eyed girl with curly blonde hair. Blondie said to the stake happy Brunette that he was an all right person.

"She's a Slayer," Watcher is saying, and as usual, clucking his tongue when he is flustered. In Spike's not so humble opinion, he should not be dealing with teens … scratch that, he should get over it; Watcher has been around teens since he got a Slayer from the old boys club in England.

"How is that possible?" and that is Xander. Just you wait, Spike thinks zeroing in on the Puffers, I'll get you alone, and then I'll hit you so hard that I'll knock you out. He winces when the chip sends a slight shock of warning through his nerve system. And then I'll tie you with red ribbon, strip you naked before hand, take pictures, and sell them on eBay.

"Did Psycho Slayer die?" There is a definite glee in Harris's voice.

"Heh," he chuckles wickedly, he is not letting the opportunity to needle Harris get away. "White Hat, is so glad somebody that is in the process of redeeming themselves kicked the bucket, are you sure you are one of the good guys?" He puts his hands behind his head, leans back, puts his boots on the coffee table, and smirks in Xander's direction. The Whelp looks taken aback.

"I'm not …" he starts hotly.

"No, Faith is not dead," Giles interrupts when he puts the phone down. Huh, _**when**_ did he get on the phone? "That was the Watcher's Council; they sent a barrister to LA, so that they'll reduce Faith Lehane's sentence."

"So I don't understand how she is …" Willow, who's fiddling with the Bot's wiring, looks up at the Watcher.

"She is right here…and my name is Amanda Lyndon," The new girl says, her little curly-blonde-with the green strands friend that looked really fetching … and if Cassandra doesn't remind him of Dru when she had her lucid moments he'll eat his leather duster is smiling serenely beside her. Perhaps that is it, her smile and the sometimes faraway look in her eyes.

"And I prefer the term Huntress," Amanda finishes looking from one person to the next.

"Err young lady, The Slayer has been around for thousands of years and you just can not change the title…" Giles says, and Spike can see that the Watcher is clearly uncomfortable with Amanda. He must be feeling his age, poor bloke.

"I can and I just did. So you can lump it."

Oh _yeah_ he decidedly likes the new Slayer on the Block.

"And where is Buffster, I thought she'd be here …" Now those are _**fighting**_ _**words**_ that Harris just uttered; Spike abruptly stands, he is itching to rip those two a new one.

"Willow, Xander a word in private if you will …" Spike glares at the Watcher who spoke.

Willow is confused, "But …" Red says, watching, not Ruppy the Watcher, but him … and is that worry in her eyes? Oh yes it is, as it should be. Just you _wait_ little Red when Glinda comes home.

" _ **NOW**_."

But before anything more can be said, there is the jarring sound of the doorbell. Now who could that be, Spike frowns. Red goes very quickly, almost running, to the door. Heh, his mouth stretches into an evil smirk; she is behaving like a little kid in trouble that suddenly got a reprieve from being a minute away from a spanking.

"Oh my Goddess!" comes her voice from the door, "Oz, its Oz!"

"Hey," greets a familiar voice. Spike doesn't turn around from his position and the ohh so prodigal quiet wolf-boy returns, now that will be interesting.

Well supposedly he is a man now, so wolf-man, and now he sounds like Harris when he is spazzing over a comic … he slaps his forehead.

"I need a drink," with those muttered words, he stands up to do just that. Spike knows where Watcher hides the stiff drinks … ahhh the _good_ stuff, like Brandy.

"Oi Dead Boy … this is no time for a drink, and you haven't answered the question." Speak of the devil, hmmm perhaps Spike should take a swing from the bottle, and break the glass on the annoying one's head.

"I'm celebrating Wolf-man's return by getting piss ass drunk. Because, maybe, then I'll manage to forget your droopy mug, Harris."

"Ouch what crawled up your ass and died?" jeers Xander.

Spike forgoes the glass and takes a deep drink from the bottle of Brandy. He has a feeling that he better get very drunk because the situation with Buffy left him absolutely knackered. He needs something to stay on his feet – alcohol seemed a perfect solution for that.

"Err Spike, I would like you not to drink from the bottle if you please," Giles says.

"I **do** please." Spike turns from Harris to look at Oz and company. "Huh, dunno the rest of the puppies and" his eyes narrow on the small Chinese teen" the She-demon."

From the corner of his eye he sees Anya twitch. Now what is that about, oh, he remembers now, Xander is said to be THE demon babe magnet.

Oz gives a short nod in his direction. "Spike?"

He shrugs. "Got chipped by soldier boys, but you knew that, and now I'm working with White Hats 24/7. Mostly being a babysitter for a cute eight year old girl, because the others are a bunch of wankers who can not see rock from the trees."

Oz watches him throughout the whole explanation then gives a short nod. Never much of conversationalist that one. But, noisy Scooby Bunch that the Slayer has, being a quiet wolf is a balm. No wonder Buffy liked this bloke and had fond but vague memories of him.

"Hey, I resent that."

"Resent all you want Harris the Wanker."

"OK," Oz says, and then turns to the room at large. "Introduction, everyone, this is Rupert Giles," Watcher nods his greeting; "this is Xander Harris," Oz points at Harris.

"Construction worker extraordinaire," Xander bows, "and much needed comic relief guy and donut procurer for researching minds."

"He is also my," Demon girl pipes in and grabs onto Harris possessively, and with quite a grip if the whelp's wince is anything to go by. "I'm his fiancée Anya Jenkins, we are getting married…"

Xander goes all bug eyed; "Uh An, didn't we agree that we'll tell the others later?"

"So it is later," Anya waves him off, and then points accusingly at him. "I don't want others thinking you are available. Because you're not!" She turns to the Chinese demon girl, Spike can not identify which species of shape shifting demons she belongs to but he knows that she is some kind of a demon.

"Yes because Harris is a demon magnet." Spike grabs Xander's shoulder. "Right Harris?"

"Shut up Spike."

"Bite me."

"So not happening, and also, _ewwww_."

"Not that I'd let you …"

"Then why bring it up!"

"Aww are you disappointed … too bad I don't swing that way, ask Anya if she'd bite you …"

"I bite him plenty and he, he does that thing with his mph," Anya is interrupted by Xander putting a palm over her mouth, shutting her up perfectly.

"TMI An."

Oz shrugs then he calls for attention back on him. "Ahem… this is Master Tenzin, and his niece Bayarmaa; they are both from a monastery in Tibet. Master Tenzin came to help out the local werewolves with controlling their change. Jinan ..."

"Hua Wei Qing's daughter? From Hong Kong?" Giles asks, stepping toward the group.

"Yes, I am. Mr. Rupert Giles?"

"That's right." Giles nods. "How is your father, I must confess I hadn't spoken to Qing in awhile."

"He is fine, Mr. Giles."

"Just Giles, all the children call me that, and since you'll be staying in Sunnydale …"

"Giles then." All newcomers nod at each other. "Then you can call us by our first names or in case of Bayarmaa, Bay," Jinan says.

"So where are Buffy and Tara? I'd like to introduce them as well," Oz asks he had been expecting them to be present; they're probably out on patrol or something.

"Perhaps I should cast a finder spell for Tara and Buffy?" Willow hurries, "to guide them here, so that they can be at the meeting and all."

"I am gobsmacked, at the way you are behaving with magic Willow," Giles says. "After putting Buffy in the hospital."

"What, but, but …"

"You are wrong Big G," Xander interrupts Willow hotly, lunging his arm over a distraught redhead. "Willow didn't want to hurt Buffy; she helped her come back to herself."

"I know Xander but …" Giles takes off his glasses and starts to polish them and that is the final straw for Spike.

"Oh for the love of, Red cocked up the spell that should never have been casted in the bloody first place. Buffy was bleeding from her eyes, not just her mouth and nose and ears, but from her eyes!" Spike shouts, and then he glares at Xander.

"Tell me to shut it you Damp Squib and I'll bloody shut you up with my fist. Willow completely lost her plot, in and on good way to completely taking a piss on Buffy and Tara."

"Glinda was spitting mad at you, when I last saw her." Spike waves at Willow, who is crying.

"Wouldn't be surprised if she left ya, this time, she was so mad. There was bad language involved; she even borrowed mine 'bugger off'."

"Should we come back at a better time?" Oz's voice comes out calm, but inside he feels … empty, and is worried for his Slayer friend, and is also so very confused; things in Sunnydale are apparently worse than he thought.

What has _happened_?

"Nahh, don't worry …err, you are Oz right? From the band Dingoes Ate my Baby?" the young curly blonde haired woman says, stepping up to the group from Tibet. "Glad you can control the other you."

"You're a seer?" the oldest, what's his name, Spike has to think...Tenz something, says.

"No I, I know things that I see or feel are fuzzy but … I haven't got the strength of a seer."

"That will come in time young one."

The blonde, Cassie, shakes her head sadly, "No, I won't. There's a lot of stuff I'd like to do. I'd love to backpack across the country or ... I don't know ... tell Mike I like him too? But I won't. I just never will. I know that he" she flings her hand at Spikes direction, who tilts his head, listening intently; Cassandra's outburst draws the attention of the entire room.

"Will become whole, and have an extended family, with a kid, somewhere where it's warm and sunny on a tropical island." She takes a deep breath. "But I don't know how or when, just that it'll certainly happen down the line and I won't be there because I'll be gone."

"Shh it's going to be all right Ducks," and Spike is with her, Amanda on her other side hugging her.

"But that's alright, I made a very good friend, the very best friend," she smiles at Amanda, "and I have meet all of _**you**_ , that makes the greatest difference in the world, and I'll meet the little wave who will grow into a tidal wave that will bring change to that isle, like a pink feathered phoenix born out of water."

"Okay, can I _say_ huh, and add a dash of what the _**hell**_ was _that_ gibberish?"

"Ohh Harris," Spike sings.

"Wha…"

That is all he can get out because Spike acts on his promise and punches him into unconsciousness, followed by a splitting headache, as his chip reacts for hurting a human.

"I … arghhh, suppose, ouch, bloody hell that hurts!" he grunts from the floor where he curls into himself. "I'll have to ughh; forgo the rest of the plan."

Cassandra giggles then whispers something, which has Oz choking and Amanda looking at the vampire on the ground.

"Oh I don't know," Amanda says, "he just insulted my best friend, tell me more about that plan of yours later," she finishes with a smile as she crouches before the vampire.

"Will do," Spike mutters between pants then spies a frowning Anya who has Xander's head on her lap, and Willow, who is dabbing Harris's bloody nose; he really hopes that his nose is broken, those two usually don't get injured because the Slayer keeps them safe, "and I regret _nothing_."

"So, what's the current crisis of the year?" Oz asks.

"Nothing demonic, Slayer is a kid, and the ponces tried to kill her."

"We don't …"

"She would have bled to death if I didn't bring her to the hospital."

 *****Summers residence – Buffy's room – nine a.m. o'clock, next day; 31. October *****

Tara is folding clothes into a suitcase, while Amy is trying to come to terms on what happened while she was a rat.

"I still wince when I see a cat … but I suppose you'll be taking your familiar with you." Amy is wringing her hands, while watching the black and white kitten that is playing with a ball.

"Well Miss Kitty Fantastico is not exactly a familiar, yet." Tara folds Tamarina's pink shirt that has Hello Kitty on the front. "But you'll need to readjust to being a human."

"I suppose so, don't get me wrong I- I'm glad that I'm back, but so much has happened … and I have so much to catch up on. And I suppose I'm mad at Willow for not trying again by calling on some other Goddess to change me back or …" she trails off, watching her hands as if she has never seen them before.

"It's all right to be angry, just let it go," Tara advises. "It's not good to bottle up feelings, negative especially, for a magic user."

"Is this why you're moving out, because you are angry at Willow? But you make such a good couple, though I never paged Rosenburg as gay."

"I think gender doesn't really matter to Willow, though right now she prefers women as a partner."

"We're home!" Spike hollers, while he puts the smoking blanket away.

Amy looks excited. "That's Spike and Buffy; sorry you named her Tamarina right?"

"Yes, but it's all right her middle name is still Buffy."

"I think I'll call her Tama or something."

"Let's let her get used to answering to Tamarina, before shorting the name, please Amy."

"Oh okay." Amy nods, then they hear a patter of little running feet.

"Look, look what Spike got me!" and Buffy bursts into the room, carrying a black as night big puppy with red eyes and a tan colored puffy tail. As soon as she reaches the bed, she puts the pup down. The puppy immediately looks around but stays by Buffy's side.

"What's that, a puppy?" Tara picks up the pup, and examines him. It's big and hairy, with two red eyes, but he has a cute face.

"Yeah, it's a husky – hellhound mix." Spike, who had just walked into the room, says, and then sits down beside Buffy. "And not those things that I heard attacked during the Slayer's Prom night. These ones are hellhounds that are left behind by the Wild Hunt, and are supposed to be familiar with powerful sorcerers and warlocks."

"Well hopefully it'll look more like a husky and not a Hellhound like when it grows," Amy observes. "Not that I was at the Prom, but I know what various breeds of Hellhounds look like. So what's its name?" Amy changes the subject.

"Mhh, dunno yet, do you know any boy doggie names, mommy, and who are you? … I'm B Tamarina Buffy Maclay."

"Hello, I'm Amy, Amy Madison."

"Ohh, so you are like James Bond, you kinda are kinda glowy … wait, mommy turned you back! I'm glad you're ok!" Buffy babbles excitedly; the puppy squirms from Tara's hold, to join her daughter in jumping around the de-rated Amy.

"Oh, hey," Amy suddenly says. "I just remembered a good name, before I turned myself into a rat I watched a movie … it was something about a Prince from outer space, that landed on Earth with his trusted robot companion and was constantly helped and rescued by a dog named Benji; he was a mixed breed as well and very smart."

"Then his name in Benji." Buffy declares. Benji wags his bushy tail. "Aww he likes the name."

"All right," Tara says, "Here is the collar, and I put my number and name and Benji's name in the tag, in case he gets lost or something."

Then she turns to Spike; "Is Willow coming soon, I need to tell her before we leave."

"She'll be here; she is … Oz is here in Sunnydale, along with some monks and demon chick. They are still over at Watcher's flat; they pulled an all nighter and there is …" Spike trails off when he hears the door open.

"Tara honey?"

They hear Willow's voice, and then the footsteps of many feet. "Speak of the devil," Spike remarks, "go on Tara, I'll watch over these three, besides I already decked Harris … exactly fifteen hours ago, give or take a half an hour."

"You what, oh never mind, I'm going downstairs."

"Tara?"

"I'm coming down Willow," Tara calls, receiving a muffled reply.

Soon she is standing before a small group of people; there is Xander and Anya, and someone who must be a Tibetan woman, tan skin, raven hair, black tigrish eyes, and a gentle smile. Tara likes her, she seems wise and a kind young woman, and then there is Oz.

"Hello," he greets her.

"Hello Oz," she nods. "Welcome back. Buffy, you know about Buffy," at his nod, she continues. "She is upstairs with Amy Madison and Spike."

"I'm Bay," the Tibetan native introduces herself. "I apologize for the intrusion, but we thought it was prudent that one of us accompanies Oz here as well, just in case." With that Bay leaves to go upstairs with Oz, and so Tara is alone with Willow, Xander, and Anya.

Willow, whom she hasn't seen since she left with Buffy to Giles yesterday after dinner. Willow, who cast the spell that she had no business in casting a spell that nearly killed Buffy.

It would have killed Buffy, after giving her that rapid growth that Willow so desired. Forcing an unnatural change… it would rip her body apart. And Willow would get grown up Buffy back …dead. And not only that, Tara found a marked page in one of her herbal spell books, and combining that with the dried flower she found under her pillow for days now, Lethe's Bramble, it sends cold shivers down Tara's spine. Mind control and spells of forgetting. To think Willow sunk so low as too…

"So," Xander sits down, and pulls Anya with him. "You weren't at the Scooby meeting." Then he winces at her look. "Ahh pretend I did not just say that … how, how is Buffy?"

"Getting better," Tara replies shortly.

"Ahh that's good, very good. So it was no harm done then."

"Xander … shut up," Tara grits out, and then she whirls at Willow. "What were you thinking when casting that spell?!"

"I-I …" Willow stutters, face pale, wringing her hands nervously.

"Never mind, it was rhetorical question. Did you even think about what forcing Buffy's body to grow unnaturally would have done to her if we didn't take her to the hospital?" and if they didn't just finish the protection spell in the nick of time that prevented the growth.

"See Xander, the spell worked, Buffy is all grown up now." Anya smiles and Tara has to restrain herself to not slap all three of them silly; she keeps her eyes firmly on Willow's face though. "So we can finally marry and Buffy will keep us all safe again."

"Buffy is still in a considerate amount of pain, even if she refuses to show it." Tara says slowly, her voice even, her eyes firmly on Willow; be it physical or emotional, in that both incarnations are identical. She must make her last plea for Willow, otherwise it is truly over, and she won't, can't risk her child to be hurt by her lover again. "And if the spell had truly worked, as you had intended Willow, then yes Buffy would be grown, however she'd be truly dead the moment she'd hit the exact age she was when she jumped."

Then, Tara looks at the pale faces of Xander and Anya, who look perplexed.

"But the Haumea Sphere grants re-birth," Willow says, "Anya you said that." She looks questioningly at the former vengeance demon.

"I did not lie, Haumea Sphere does grant rebirth, but if you listened to me at the end, I did say that the way Buffy is now could be considered re-birth granted by The Key. And you said that you checked."

"I did, it was safe," Willow argues, "Besides I know a spell that will make Buffy forget about the pain of growing'."

"Obviously it was not safe." Tara's voice slams across the arguing Willow and Anya like a door slamming shut.

"What is wrong with you, Willow?"

Xander abruptly stands up, pulling Anya on her feet. "We're just going to …"

"Go home with Anya, Xander, you have a wedding to plan don't you," Tara says coldly.

"Yes that we do," mumbles Xander looking anywhere but at Tara and Willow. Tara doesn't care; she won't let them go upstairs. Tamarina is still frail, and forcing a child to look at her tormentors, even if said child knows that they did that out of love, she _**fears them now**_. Tara is expecting to wake up the following couple of nights due to the nightmares her kid will have because of this debacle.

"Finally he agrees!" Anya jumps up and starts to pull Xander towards the front door; Tara pays them no mind, she stares down Willow.

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know what you did Willow. You used that spell on me, to violate my mind, and now you wanted to do the same to an eight year old child."

"Violate you? I didn't mean anything like that and … and you said that the spell worked and I thought that Buffy …"

"Buffy is still eight years old and nearly died because of you." Harsh words but it seems that Willow does not want to listen to reason anymore.

"I just wanted us to not fight anymore. All we do is fight, ever since Buffy was turned into a child and forgot us, all we do is fight." Willow sobs, crumpled onto herself, and reaches up to Tara. "I love you, Tara baby."

"If you don't want to fight, you don't fight. A relationship consists of two individuals that talk, adjust, and respect each other and yes sometimes fights breaks out. You don't use magic to make a fight disappear."

"I wanted to make things better. Better for us. But okay I realize I did it wrong-"

"You did it the way you're doing everything, Will. When things get rough, you don't even consider your options - you just do a spell."

"But I - I'm trying to help people."

"That's how you started and that was admirable, but you are helping yourself now like a little kid that throws a temper tantrum because she didn't get the toy she wanted. I don't think this relationship is working," Tara finishes sadly. She has already decided to take that step, and this conversation she is just having proves to her that she _**can't**_ … they can't stay here; she has made the right decision. Even if separation from the woman she still loves is tearing her heart apart.

"Tara, please. I need you baby. I need you. I don't need magic. I don't. Let me prove it to you, okay? I'll go a month without using magic. I won't do a single spell, I swear," Willow pleads; Tara's resolve wobbles, perhaps there is still a chance for them, perhaps she _**can**_ give Willow a bit more time. Perhaps this separation will wake up Willow.

"Go on for four months without magic – except if the world or an innocent life is in danger." They live on the Hellmouth, and she doesn't want Willow to get hurt.

"Fine, fine that's easy." Willow soothes and reaches for her again. But Tara takes a step back.

"Till February 2002 then we'll see. And I'm taking Buffy and we are moving out; you can still live in this house. I think we both need some... I don't know, space."

Willow looks at her, unbelieving. "You're saying you're going to leave me?"

"Not for forever, but for four months, yes we are leaving this house. Buffy fears you Willow."

 *****Nightfall – 31 of October 2001; 9 p.m. Summers home*****

 _"For Buffy and Tara this I char, let_

 _Lethe's Bramble do its chore. Purge_

 _their minds of memories grim, of_

 _pains from recent slights and sins..._

 _'When the fire goes out. When the_

 _crystal turns black. The spell will_

 _be cast. Tabula rasa. Tabula rasa._

 _Tabula rasa."_

 *****Night – 31st of October 9:45 p.m. Magic Box*****

She slowly blinks her eyes; there is a weight on her stomach and shoulder, and she is lying on the ground. She raises her head to inspect the strange weight to see a white blonde girl, a child, sleeping on her shoulder, curled to her side like a kitten to the mother cat, and beside her waiting is a whining a puppy. And on her stomach lies, she blushes at the implication, a young man with auburn hair, his hand thrown, protectively over the little girl.

Suddenly there is a thud and a pained yelp and that startles the little girl and auburn haired man that were using her as a pillow into waking.

"Hey," he says. "I know that this sounds strange, but who are you and do you know who I am?"

She shakes her head; catching a glimpse of her hair … she is blonde. "I don't know either, or where we are actually."

"Umm, are you …ermm my mommy and daddy, and …I …I..." Tears well up in those blue green eyes and the puppy starts to lick her face.

"Hey shh, it's OK if you don't remember anything, we don't remember either."

"The dog tags…there is a number." The young man dials the number and there it is beeping in her pocket.

"Well, at least we know I'm your mommy."

"Tara," she hears a male voice say.

"What?"

"Your name," the unnamed auburn haired male says smiling; he has kind and nice smile. But there are no warm feelings that she feels towards him. Perhaps when she remembers, she'll feel something.

"Oohh," she breathes.

"I'm Tamarina!" the child exclaims, brandishing her left arm, where a beaded bracelet proudly proclaims the name to the world.

"And I'm Daniel," he says, holding up the ID card.

"Err hello," comes a cultured voice. They look up from their circle of three to see an older gentleman in tweed with young woman by his side.

Looking around Tara sees that there are more people in the room; a redhead woman in a sort of rustic dress with a bleached-blonde male in tweed, and a dark haired guy with a brunette who are sort of tangled together

"Who are you freaks?" the dark haired man asks, looking at them all.

And that sparks the brunette's temper, "You don't know me?"

"I don't have a clue."

"But you acted all 'Hey'" she accuses.

"Yeah, that's cause I thought you are a girl and I'd remember in a second but …"

"I am a girl, idiot. I'm…I don't remember!"

"Okay, why was I on the ground? And why are you all staring at me? Is this some sort of psych test? Am I getting paid for this? Is this a bad dream?" He pinches himself. "Ouch, okay that is a no. Does anyone remember anything?"

Brunette stands up with an irritated huff, "It's not just you." She looks around at all of them. "Does anyone remember anything?"

"Nope," the bleach blonde man in tweed says. And there is a shaking of heads all around.

"We know this little one is named Tamarina, from her bracelet. I'm Tara, there was my phone number on this dog's tag and Daniel Osborne here has an ID with his picture. And we are, possibly a family. But we don't remember anything either."

"Perhaps we all got terribly drunk and we're having some kind of a black out." That came from the older guy, and what possessed him to say that? Tamarina is only a child.

"Oi even the kid?" bleach blonde haired man points at said kid.

"I don't see any booze; I don't feel any head bumps, and I don't see Alan Funt," says the woman who is staying close to older gentlemen, bluntly.

"Hey look at the things on these shelves; weird jars of weird stuff and weird books with weird covers like _'Magic for beginners_ ', oh." Redhead is browsing the shelves.

"A magic shop, a real magic … perhaps somebody cast some sort of spell that makes us forget who we are." Tara breathes, when she thinks of magic, she feels a warm feeling in her heart, like she knows it.

"Magic?" the older gentlemen scoffs. "Magic is all balderdash and chicanery. I'm afraid we don't know a bloody thing." Then he pauses considering. "Except I seem to be British, don't I? And a man. With glasses. Well, that narrows it down considerably."

The bleach blonde haired man barks into loud laughter. "Oh listen to Mary Poppins! Got his crust all stiff and upper with that Nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so... Bloody hell," he curses, and then he starts sporting words that makes Tara cover Tamarina's ears and aiming her nastiest glare at the male.

"Sodding blimey shagging knickers bollocks - oh no. I'm English." Who completely ignores her in his distress.

"Welcome to the Nancy tribe," the older Englishman says sarcastically. But the bleached Englishman eyes the older with a dismayed expression, which is quickly morphing into a horrified expression for some reason Tara can't comprehend.

"You don't suppose, you and I?" The bleached Englishman points at the older and then at himself, "we're not related, are we?"

The woman, who hasn't moved from the older Englishman's side, props her chin, looking from one man to the other. "There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance."

"And you," the older one looks at Bleach, dismayed at what is being suggested, "inspire a particular feeling of familiarity... and disappointment. Older brother?"

The woman shakes her head. "No, I'm thinking more along the lines of …"

"Father!" Bleached man looks resigned and annoyed, then he glares at the older man, "my God how I must hate you!"

The older man is taken aback at that outburst. "What did I do?"

Bleach rolls his eyes, "Oh, there's always something. And what's with the trollop?" he indicates to the woman beside the Older.

"Hey!" The woman looks mad enough to curse him.

"Her?" Older asks, bewilderment coloring his voice.

"I saw you sleeping together!"

With that Daniel's hands joined Tara's on Tamarina's head, to block out the conversation.

"Resting together!" the older Englishman snaps at his son.

But the woman displays her hand, or rather her ring finger, where a diamond glitters. "Look! It's okay we are engaged! It's a lovely ring."

The bleached son rolls his eyes." Great, a tarty step-Mum who's half ol' Daddy's age."

And he is promptly assaulted from both sides.

"Tarty!"

"Old! I'm young enough to still get carded …" he trails of, in thought "Of course, everyone, check your pockets for ID or driver's licenses."

The dark haired man who was having a panic attack earlier holds up his license and waves with it. "Look! Me! Alexander Harris. Cute picture. Hey, I exist!"

"I'm Willow Rosenberg. 'Willow'! Funny name," the redhead who woke with the bleached Englishman says, and I'm a student at UC Sunnydale."

"Here it says, Amy Madison. Oh look Harris I exist too."

Meanwhile Tara watches the older Englishman verily going through his pockets, after all, she doesn't know when she'll have to cover her daughter's ears again. Daniel is hovering behind them both, ready to jump in.

"I'm called, let's see, 'Rupert Giles'."

The woman swoons. "Rupert."

While the Bleach smirks evilly and mimics " _Ruperrrt_."

Mr. Rupert Giles glares at his son. "You're not too old to take over my knee... Son. What did I call you anyway?"

The bleached Englishman pats his back pocket, finding no wallet. Nothing in his interior pocket either. Then he reads a label inside his jacket.

"'Made with care for Randy'. 'Randy' Giles?! Why didn't you just name me 'Horny Giles' or 'Desperate-for-a-shag Giles'? I knew there was a reason I hated _**you**_!"

The doorbell chimes, indicating a costumer and an unfamiliar Asian looking group enters.

"Ahh Mister Giles we have found our future home at Crawford Street and … what is going on?"

They stare at one another, then Mr. Giles steps forward.

Tara glares at Willow, the shattered crystal between them, then she slowly turns to Master Tenzin, bows in thanks, then grabs Buffy and leaves, with Benji, Amy and Spike following close behind. Oz hesitates for a moment, but Bay taps his shoulder, and he follows.

It is strange, he thinks, that he is so driven in staying close to the kid Buffy; perhaps because she is a helpless child now or because for a few precious moments …he thought of her as his own.

 ****Denny's Diner, Oxnard – Ten p.m. 31. Of October, Wednesday ****

Giles just pulls up before the Denny's, hoping that Wesley has not been waiting for him for too long. He was running a little late. But he had been helping Tara and little Buffy move to Amy Madison's house. He suspects that they'll get another resident in a while; Oz, being tackled by the hellhound mixed pup of Buffy's, will probably join them.

The rest of Oz's companions purchased, cleansed, and moved into Crawford Street Mansion; they'll be turning the mansion into a monastery of sorts.

"Mr. Giles." Ah there is Wesley; my, Giles thinks, he sure has changed.

 *****Sunnydale January 15th 2002; Summers Home (formerly) *****

He is still here; he keeps postponing his flight to England, but now, he has no choice but to have this conversation with Willow.

A conversation that he should have had last year, after that disastrous spell that sent Buffy into the hospital. But he kept putting it off, kept hoping that Willow will figure things herself, but it isn't happening.

Oh she is trying to accept that Buffy will never be their Buffy anymore and that Tara is still reluctant to let her former lover anywhere near the child. He finds Willow rummaging around in the cupboards.

"Hey Giles," she greets without turning around. He frowns, how she knew, he lets his eyes unfocused a little. Drat it Willow, he thinks furiously, she used magic extensively again.

"You had a good talk with the monks at Crawford mansion?"

"It is rather Crawford monastery, but yes. They are settling in fine."

"And Oz, he is still…"

"With Tara, Buffy, and Spike in Amy Madison's house."

"Tell me about the spell you used, the one that you casted on THAT night." By the sudden tensing of the redhead's shoulders she knows what he is talking about.

"O-okay," Willow turns toward him, and he nearly winces. She doesn't look contrite, she looks excited; it's subtle, she is trying to hide it, but it is there.

"We used the Rebirth Spell of Haumea, with his Sphere, and it was kind of scary with the lights and the blood and water and there was an octopus that came out of nowhere …and I felt that it worked Giles, so why is Buffy still little, I don't get it!" she babbles.

Giles sighs, and shakes his head sadly and quietly says: "You are a very stupid child."

He can see her shock, he knows that she is shocked into silence when she opens and closes her mouth.

" _What_? Giles…" but, Giles doesn't let her continue, he had a chance to get a good look at Tara's ancestor's spell book, and yes there was a description of the spell that Willow had cast …and he still shudders at the implications. It wasn't over yet, for Willow, there is still the price that the Goddess Haumea will extract for calling her in vain; after all, Buffy was already granted a Rebirth and there is also backlash from that Protection Spell, gaining momentum.

"Have you an inkling of the forces you were playing with? The lines that you crossed? Of everyone here - you were the one I trusted most to respect the forces of nature."

"Are you saying you don't trust me? I just wanted Buffy back. I thought you'd be impressed and glad to have Buffy back! So I did what I had to do. I did what nobody else could do."

"And you nearly killed Buffy! Did you know that what happened to her was considered Rebirth in the first place? She died, and then was reborn as an eight year old. You were lucky that the Goddess Haumea was merciful and didn't kill you, Buffy, or destroyed the entire Sunnydale as retribution."

And that Protection was woven before Willow's spell took effect, if it hadn't, everything that he said just now could have happened.

"How would you know anyway? You weren't even there!"

"If I had been I'd have bloody well stopped you! The Magic's you channeled are more primal and ferocious than you can hope to understand, and you're lucky to be alive, you rank, arrogant amateur."

"You're right. The Magic's I used are incredibly powerful. I'm incredibly powerful. C'mon, Giles, I don't want to fight. Let's not, okay? I'll think about what you said."

Amanda is walking with the Bot and Cassie through one of the many cemeteries; Spike said he'd join their patrol later, since he's helping with the de-aged Slayer and wasn't that weird. The others were grouped as well; a small mixed group with one Scobie mixed in with the group from Tibet.

An honest to God rat!

Think that. If somebody would have told her that she'd be in a cemetery and looking for vampires … she'd have called those people three meals away from a happy meal _whacko_.

"I'm dangerously close to system's failure," the Bot interrupts their thoughts; they turn around to see that it is stuck in a grave, and a small wrinkly demon is watching the Bot, and then runs in the other direction, cackling.

"-To disengage from-"

"I think it's broke."

"We'll be attacked soon," Cassie says, looking not at the Bot but in the distance whence that wrinkly thing disappeared. "He'll tell, and then bikers will come."

"Demonic Bikers?" Amanda asks, "No, never mind, of course they'll be demonic bikers. And they were saying that there was no demonic crisis…And voila here it is coming with a bang."

"Let's head back."

"Sure, I might be strong enough to bench press a truck, and bend a couple of pipes into a pretzels, but … nope I'm not tackling a Demonic Biker Gang alone."

To be continued …

 **Next chapter** : LA, Angel Investigations, Connor, and perhaps what is happening in Sunnydale.


	5. Countdown in LA Motocross in Sunnydale

Countdown in LA; Motocross in Sunnydale

 **Disclaimers in the first chapter.  
Additional disclaimers':**Moana from Disney. General stuff only – no spoiler stuff. Script from BtVS episode "Hells Bells".

 *****Somewhere in an apartment in January 14th, 2001, LA, day*****

She is sitting by the mirror, trying to make her wildly curly and thick hair behave, and watching her reflection – sighing she stands up, her battle with her hair lost, again. She has work tomorrow at _'Find your Future,'_ a psychic's hotline.

Though lately she has been feeling homesick. She supposes it is time to see Lorne. Though he lives in Hyperion Hotel now, at least while Caritas was being rebuilt from scratch after that explosion last year.

She is getting not so vague signals, waves of signals really, that the currents of fate are changing drastically and it was not the various higher powers that ruled this realm at work. But a small event, a decision, that changed the course and left the rest of the word to catch up.

"This is what always happens when we don't see someone coming," comes a very familiar male voice behind her.

"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't show up, uninvited." She turns to the intruder.

"Needs musts*," then he sits down tiredly. "What is it with threats from pretty ladies lately? You're the second one that jumped down my throat when meeting me."

"Perhaps because on some level we know that you are not just a simple messenger, as you say you are."

"That would mean …huh." He closes his eyes, humming in deep thought, "I'd be damned, if it's not possible. Though it would explain so much," he mutters under his breath. She regards him for a moment, weighing the possibilities.

"I've been thinking of returning home lately," she offers, and she is, not just to Tahiti, but all the way home; she is sure that Gramma Moana will be glad to see her.

"Home, as a home, or **home**?" He tilts his head; making air quotes with both his hands at the word 'home,' the bowler hat askew. He presents a perfect picture of a shabbily dressed simple messenger. Though he is anything but simple, though he sometimes does act as a messenger and balancer for the Powers that Be, and she knows that he has his own goal just by looking at his aura.

"Home," she stresses the word, "as in not home in this Earth dimension but back home on Motunui."

"I thought she'd be the one though," then he pauses, and she has to blink at the sudden shift in conversation. It appears that Pio will get to the point and reason of his coming to see her. "No, she was the one, darn it. Well that tosses the prophecy of Universal Recreation out the window, along with a couple of other prophecies..."

"And you telling me this _because_?" she trails off; her eyebrow quirks up; he is never this chatty. Prone to sarcasm and irony, but not the chatty rambling he is doing now.

"Nah, I just really have no one to talk this through," he says, and then he shrugs. "That and like her now, you have nothing to do with this dimension's Fate," and she'd love to know how she could hear the capitals on the word fate.

"Lucky me," she drawls, "you still didn't explain why you are here, Pio."

He blinks, "Pio, huh? Somehow this name sounds better, with a kind of an Italian ring to it…"

"It is Hawaiian for whistle," she interrupts him.

"Well either way, still better sounding than Whistler. I think I'll use it from now on. After all, my path has changed too now."

At her _'get to the point'_ look he sighs. "Why does every worthy of a loss of the soul hot, human female get all annoyed at me? It's unfair." Then he gets serious. "Well the thing is, with this itty bitty change down at Hellmouth Central, certain elements cannot stay here, on this plane, sooo," he drags out the word, aggravating her, "I think you should join Angel Investigations at the old Hyperion Hotel."

"Why?" Then she shakes her head, "you'll need to give me more than that, Pio, I'm not one of yours, remember?" she states calmly, and she isn't. She is not a native human to this Earth, granted she lends a helping hand as compensation for staying here undisturbed on occasion, but that is it.

"All right, all right. I'd give you more, OK? One possible future that ends this whole mess the way that is all right for everyone … is for certain elements go home with ya, get it?"

"And how would I recognize those certain elements, Pio? More importantly why would I?"

"Weeellllllll," he draws out the word, and she can see that he really, really doesn't want to tell her, "It's like this you see: itty bitty doesn't have a destiny or a prophecy hanging over her right now, but soon the metaphorical dust will settle, and ALL versions end pretty badly for an eight year old kid."

"Since when are you so concerned about ONE life? Because you are very much for _'The Greater Good'_ and _'Ends justifies the Means'_ kind of guy."

"Well, the thing is that that itty bitty girly kind of pulled at the strings of Fate pretty badly. And I really need to check if one of her parents or even grandparents comes from Alternative Earth or something, because that was the third time the Powers, as well as me, could not see it coming," he finishes.

"I see that you are still very cryptic…" then she holds up a hand, "All right, just how many people will I be taking with me?"

"Excluding you, seven. And it is in their aura now, so you'll be able to pick them out of a crowd so to speak." And with that Whistler disappears, one blink and he is just gone.

Seven people, huh, well, it's not like her to be so hesitant to meet new people, people who Lorne considers his friends. Granted that he loves people in general, but he was the first who really had known her, the real her.

They were both stranded here on Earth, he a Pylean native, and she from another version of Earth. The Earth that was never ruled by demons …she smiles. It is time for Agnes to return home.

 *****Hyperion Hotel - lobby*****

She is looking at the tableau before her. It is so entertaining that she steps aside as to not be noticeable. Apparently Angel Investigations is having a cleaning day.

"I'd - just like to say thank you," the short haired brunette, with couple of lighter highlights, is saying, "You believed in me when no one else would. Even in my darkest hours you were there for me." She is almost crying. "And that means more to me than you'll ever know." The Brunette actually sniffles at that, though Agnes has to admire the woman's hairdo. She just wishes that her unruly hair was so stylish … or easy to style. Agnes swears that her hair has a mind of its own.

"I guess what I'm really trying to say is - I love you. - To all my fans: this is for you!"

Applauding draws Agnes' gaze to a blue eyed brunette; this one has long hair, and is sitting on the floor, wearing yellow plastic gloves … though her hair looked cute and gently curving.

"Wow! That was just - wow. 'cause... oh, and with the tears! I-I got chill bumps all up my arms," the long curly haired brunette says and Agnes really _needs_ names.

"Yup. That's the famous speech. Not that I'll ever use it of course - unless they start handing out awards for best slime and grime. - Oh, I swear. Next time Angel decides to blow something up he's cleaning his own scorch marks."

"Well," if that isn't an opening that Agnes was prepared to use, to insert herself into the conversation. "I would say that then Caritas and Lorne should be looked after and fixed up first, yes? After all it got with big boom but without the applause."

A dark skinned young man walks in wearing a hairnet and facemask and carrying a spray bottle. "Ladies. Less yammering, more scrub." He then notices her, "Ohh good day…"

"Agnes. Agnes Bellfleur. And I'm not a customer, but I am looking for my friend Lorne – you know the tall green one."

"I'll go call him, um – I'm Fred," curly … no Fred introduces herself, and then the short haired brunette steps forward, while Fred darts around them and upstairs.

"I'm Cordelia Chase, hello."

"Hello," Agnes then remembers her, "ahh, you're the one Lorne went to Pylea for."

"Yes, I was a Princess there." Cordelia beams, and wow were her teeth white, then she recalls Lorne mentioning that Cordelia wants to be an actress.

Congrats," she says to Cordelia; technically Agnes was born a princess, if Waialiki had royals and not chiefs, briefly she wonders if Gramma Moana is still chief or if she had passed the mantle to her daughter, Agnes's mother, while Agnes was gone. Who knows she might even have had a little sibling born during her absence.

"And I'm Charles Gun." Then Charles turns to Cordelia. "Wes back yet?"

"No he's still at the store picking up some more extra strength icky removal," Cordelia remarks, while pulling her glows off and motioning Agnes to follow her inside.

"Look who is up from his nap …" A tall, handsome, and dark haired man walked down…no not a man, a vampire with a soul, so this is Angel, Agnes thinks. Then her eyes go to the little bundle … the reaction is instant, this baby, no more than couple of months if not less she isn't an expert in decreeing babies' ages is one of the people she'll be taking with her … but there is no glow around any of the others, so they'll have to stay.

That will be problematic; she has no desire to be branded as a baby-kidnapper and be on the run, while trying to find the others. Mentally she promises that if she'll see Pio ever again, she will drown him in the sea.

"Oh Conner!" Cordelia takes steps toward the baby and Angel, who curls up around the baby, like a mother bob-cat, as Cordelia stretches out her hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa dirty people are not touchy my baby."

What …? Okay, why do people or vampires feel the need to baby talk around babies? It is so corny.

"But pig drinking bloodsuckers are okay?" Cordelia says, and then at Angel's look rolls her eyes. "I meant that in a nice way. Okay I'm gonna wash my hands, but when I get back I have first dibs on the baby snuggles. And oh this is Agnes Bellfleur, she is looking for Lorne."

"Hello," she nods a greeting at the vampire, eyes firmly on his face; she is ignoring the baby at the moment. It is not like she has to grab the little tyke and run for it; he is after all the first of the people she has to find.

"Hi, ehm I'm Angel." He nods, "I apologize, that I can't shake hand, but I have no where clean to put my son you see."

"I know who you are, Lorne talked about you a lot." Then she smiles reassuringly, "and it's fine I don't need a handshake."

Black eyebrows rise. "Oh he did?"

Now he sounds like Lorne doesn't care about him. Agnes has found that Lorne likes people – humans very much. And the ones in Angel Investigations, Lorne considers to be very good friends.

"Yeah mostly good stuff." She nods.

"Mostly."

She smiles, "Just funning you."

"Ohm."

"You take everything too seriously, live a little, even if you are of the undead kind," she says smiling at the now also smiling man.

Just then she notices a tall lanky man with dark brown stubble and hair, with gold rimmed glasses, and very pretty blue eyes … and she can not help but smile; he has the same aura glow as the baby – Connor if she recalls the name correctly.

Now she has two. **Five to go**.

"Where is she?" the man breathes as he heaves a couple of bags inside. "And uh, terribly sorry I didn't know we had a customer," he says, with a slight, but polished British accent. "I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and I run Angel Investigations."

"Agnes Bellfleur," she introduces herself, and shaking his hand in greeting, "hello, pleased to meet you. And I'm not a customer; I'm here to see Lorne. Your employee… err Fred went to find him."

"Ah I see, well …"

"Don't mind me," she smiles at the flustered British man, "Mr. Wyndam-Pryce I know what it is you do here, and I can promise I won't be a hindrance. But I really need to see Lorne…" then she trails off "…oh, it's Cordelia Chase's birthday."

"How do you know this?" Angel asks pretty forcefully, making Agnes glare at the vampire and with satisfaction, she notices, he actually flinches back; she supposes that villagers of her birth island saying that she had her grandmother's _'no more, nonsense you childish powerhouse'_ glare are spot on.

"Aggie here is a friend that helped with finding that hotspot to enter Pylea."

At Lorne's voice they all look up, and there he is in his whole bright suit and green skin glory. Agnes smiles and holds up her hands, Lorne mimicking her actions, and they share an affectionate hug.

"We are going upstairs," Wesley says, while Charles, who had returned, carries a cake.

"Yeah, you go up to our charmante mademoiselle Chase. I'll talk with my friend." Lorne turns to his friends.

"Hey Lorne, I'm going home but not alone as it…" she says, after the others have disappeared from sight.

"Sing for me, Sugary flower," Lorne interrupts, "I can see stuff, lots of stuff, swirling about and I really need to make heads and tails outta that."

"Ou mata e matagi, Ou loto mamaina toa, Manatu atu, Taku pelepele, Manatu atu.**" She sings one of the songs her Gramma Moana used to sing when telling Agnes stories of her adventures before bedtime. Agnes hopes that her grandmother is still alive in Motunui, her home world.

"Oh wow," Lorne breathes. "That was something, Sugar Flower; you have beautiful voice and considering the alternative fate that Wes and … they are better off if they go with you."

"Yeah, but I can't just grab them and jump dimensions, that needs preparations and the right star alignment, not to mention the right place, which by the way is the Bermuda Triangle," she says seriously, "that and I have no idea when I'll come across the other five that have to come with us."

At that Lorne laughs, "Oh that's easy, I saw them while singing; I can draw them for you."  
"You can draw?" She didn't know that, she knew Lorne could sing, and of his ability to read the futures of persons singing, but she didn't know he could draw a portrait.

"Baby," he sighs dramatically, guiding her to the stack of papers, "Honey sugar pie, I am an artist, so yes I can draw them." Then he waves at the pile. "Now if you want charcoal drawings I can get to work, but if you want color that'll take a bit more time. Oh, oh I know, I can do hair and eyes in color, but the rest in charcoal."

"Thank you."

"You welcome, Maemae." She stares, she hasn't heard or been called that name since coming here when she was just sixteen years old, hungry for adventure that would rival her grandmother's.

"As for the other things, well, as far as I saw, it'll work out fine," Lorne soothes.

"That is …" whatever Agnes wants to say next is drowned out by the noise of glass breaking.

Exchanging quick glances they both run upstairs. When they run through the door, everyone is clustered around the body that lies on what is left of the glass cabinet.

"Oh no," a woman's voice, Agnes has to think for a bit, Fred, is saying.

"Take him," Angel hands his baby son to Wesley; she half expects them to both disappear with her at that moment, but that would be silly, and too easy for her.

"Come on Cordy, wake up. It's all over, come back to us." Angel is leaning over the downed Cordelia, who is not responding. She is breathing though, and Agnes notices the slight rise and fall of her chest, but what draws her attention is a … sort of washed up figure standing right by Angel and the unconscious Miss Chase.

Fred is looking down at the two fearfully. "Angel, is she …"

"NO!" Angel is very vehement, but Agnes can almost hear another voice. "Her heart is still beating. Let's get her over to a couch. Lorne do you have anything?"

"Did she have a vision?" Agnes asks, while still watching the foggy figure that looks suspiciously like Cordelia Chase. From the corner of her sight, she sees Fred nod.

"…y…see….e…" the figure is looking right at her. Did Miss Chase somehow astral project? She is not a ghost; the body is still very much alive.

"I'm picking up some hardcore woo-woo vibes in the room. This isn't medical, kids. It's mystical," Lorne says to the room at large.

"And I am picking a presence," she adds in her two cents, then she turns and addresses the projection of Miss Chase, "and yes I can hear you but it is muffled; you need to say it faster and louder …better!" Agnes says, but then she is quickly crowded by the vampire.

"Oi," she yells, and pushes his face away, with enough force to make him stumble. "I can't hear her if you are in my face, _idiot_!"

"Seltrex!" Fred yells.

Wesley sits heavily on the chair. "Oh God." She is tempted to join him.

"What's Seltrex?" Angel asks giving Mr. Wyndam-Pryce his undivided attention. Wow, Agnes thinks, talk about hyper focusing tunnel vision.

"..thg! …." She hears from the blurry silhouette. But she really doesn't feel the need to stop them in finding out. Who knows it might help cure Cordelia, even if medicine is not the root of this problem.

"Seltrex is a highly powerful migraine medication."

Charles Gunn stands up. "Maybe we should get her to a hospital."

"So they can do what?" Angel frowns, while gazing off into the distance, probably remembering some event that connected with this one. "Do what they did last time, strap her to a bed and tell us there's no hope?"

Wesley holds up his hand, "Angel is right. Seltrex is potent but it's not the cause of the catatonia." Then he turns toward Agnes, "You can see and hear her?"

"Yes, but only as a blurry colorful silhouette and I can hear the whole sentence if she talks loudly and very fast. But that's not helping us find out what is wrong with her."

Fred steps closer to the two, just as Angel moves in to invade her personal bubble, again.

"That's what I'm saying. There is so much we don't know. If Cordelia is taking a drug this powerful in secret, the visions are probably doing a lot more damage than she lets on."

"This last one must have overloaded her," Charles Gunn says, looking down at his unconscious friend.

"Don't say last!" and Angel stops crowding her at the drop of the hat, if any of them wore a hat.

"Okay? She'll come out of this. She has to."

"She -ll."

"Okay. Look, if this is a mystical problem there has to be some kind of mystical solution."

"That is a great idea," Agnes nods, but she feels that if would be good if she'd warned them, "but those mystical forces won't take kindly if you ignore why you are here to bother them."

"You don't know that." And suddenly he looms over her … again. She is seriously considering _staking this_ neurotic vampire.

"Actually, Angel-cakes" Lorne pulls the hovering vampire away from her "she has a point; you can't ignore the vision completely."

"Gunn," Angel turns to Charles, "you and Fred go to Cordy's place."

"And she just said that that is a bad idea." Agnes repeats after Cordelia.

"And how do we know that you are telling the truth," Angel says, glowering her way suspiciously. Honestly this vampire, lucky Miss Chase shares Agnes's frustration and a string of threats come from the inspiring actress. So Agnes hurries with forwarding Miss Chase's message to Angel.

"She is saying that if you don't, she'll make sure I tell your ex…um, Fluffy…Ok _now_ she is laughing, oh it's Buffy, all about your escapade with Darla."

"So she is hiding something." Angel says.

Agnes huffs an irritated breath, and then her hand shoots out, latching onto the vampire's ear, hey if it worked on a demigod …" _Listen_ , you neurotic moron," she hisses, while he yelps in surprise, but her fingers are firmly and painfully clamped on his earlobe. "What she hides are probably the headaches she gets from visions. The vision that she had now is important and needs to be solved, _before_ you seek answers because the Powers can be picky about things like that."

"She is right," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce says, and she releases the vampire's ear and almost smiles when she sees him rubbing the sore spot.

"Cordy said that there is a girl in Reseda that's about to be fed to a demon with no eyes and three mouths," Fred supplies.

"I'll hit the books, Gunn and Angel will drive to Reseda, and I'll call you with information about the demon."

"Right."

"Angel, **go** ," Wesley says to the hesitating vampire. "Lorne will find the entrance for the Higher Powers, where you can ask about Cordelia, but that girl in Reseda needs help, **now**."

"Cordelia says that the girl is in a house on one seven one Oak street the middle of Reseda," Agnes says, passing the message on without the complaining that accompanied the instructions.

Not that Miss Chase seemed to mind, she was mostly just venting her frustration and fear.

"You," Angel whirls on Lorne, like a green demon seeking missile, "have a connection to the Powers That Be and you're gonna find me a way to talk to them. **Understand**?"

Lorne backs up a step: "A-angel honey, it's not that easy. Contacting the Powers is a muddy, not to mention dangerous, area. But this is a - this is a bit too much to ask. Besides we should contact the middle guys not the top."

Angel hands rest on his yellow clad shoulders, "I'm not asking for middle guys, I want to talk with the top." And with a dramatic, that made Agnes wish that she had boxed both his ears, swish of his coat he left.

 *****Two hours later*****

"Err, Miss Bellfleur, why are you sitting on the floor … oh I'm sorry."

"I'm just playing solitaire, Mr. Wyndam – Pryce, you haven't interrupted anything," Agnes says, and then she stands up to face the boss of Angel Investigations. "And it's Agnes."

"Only if you refer to me as Wesley."

"Well then pleased to meet with you, Wesley, was there anything you needed?"

"Ahh yes, Cordelia was saying that there are whispering voices hounding her."

"Good God, is she in danger; did you hear what those voices are saying?"

"I'm confidant that those voices are not evil, however they make Cordelia uneasy. She is afraid that they'll take her away. Were Mr. Angel and Mr. Gunn successful in saving that girl in Reseda?"  
"Yes, they're returning, however Lorne is not back yet."

"It'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"I … _what_?!" Agnes exclaims when she sees a wind that is not affecting her or Wesley, only Cordelia who is backing out of the room that they are in and into a corner, slowly sliding down to the floor.

"What's happening?" Wesley asks her.

"Shh, I think this is a test of some sort," she whispers urgently, "pretend that I can't see it … there is one of the messengers of the Higher Powers talking with Cordelia in the next room."

"All right," is the man's answer, and she is equal parts glad that he listened to her and puzzled at his trust. "Can you describe the messenger?"

"He said his name is Skip; I heard about a messenger that was named that, from Pio or rather he introduces himself as Whistler and …" at Wes's look she pauses and then whispers her own question. "You know Whistler?"

"I heard and had read about him; his most known recent entanglement was in Sunnydale." He adjusts his gold rimmed glasses. "He is a balance demon that works with the Powers that Be."

"They are gone now," then she looks at the lying and breathing Cordelia. "The astral body and Skip that is."

Wesley nods. "Now we wait."

"Yeah, Angel is not going to be happy with a test like this; it usually tests mental strength, not physical."

"We won't tell him then."

"Lorne back yet?"

Speak of the devil and he'll appear.

"Ahh, Angel, not yet," Wesley answers and Agnes stands up to face the vampire.

"How about Cordy, is she alright; what did she say?" the next set of questions are fired at her.  
"She is fine, she is resting."

Before she can be questioned on the subject of Cordelia even more Lorne comes in moaning; his clothes are torn and his left horn is dangling by a thread. "Oh, for the love of God, _somebody_ get me a sea-breeze."

Fred rushes to him, "Lorne! What happened?"

Lone shakes his head, "I can't really talk about it. They cast a spell. I went down to the lo..." The next words that tumble out of his mouth are completely incoherent gibberish. "See?"

"That will pose a problem."

"Understatement, Wes."

"Still that gives credence to our assumption and with the appearance of the messenger from the Powers … Cordelia is facing a test of some kind."

"What, no, she is doing enough with the visions … Did you get the information where I can contact the Powers that Be?"

"Oh, why yes, Angel. My horn should grow back in a couple of days. So kind of you to be so concerned. Well, they didn't say I couldn't write it."

Lorne holds out a piece of paper with an address scrawled on it. Angel takes it, grabs his coat, and heads for the door.

"Angel," Lorne calls after him, "all kidding aside, this isn't something to be taken lightly. Only a champion can deal with the conduit. And even then you have to la-argh _arr_..."

"I'll keep that in mind."

But before Angel can walk out of the door, Cordelia arcs back, screaming in pain. Angel moves so fast, one minute he is by the hotel's door, the next by the couch, holding onto the screaming woman's shoulders, so that she doesn't tumble off the couch or hurt herself with the thrashing about.

"What's happening to her?" Fred asks watching the struggling woman, who withers in pain. Suddenly the screaming stops and Cordelia sits up on the bed, gasping an opening her eyes to look at all of them.

Angel catches her in a hug. "I thought I'd lost you."

Cordelia snorts, "Like you could get rid of me so easily." Then she grabs hold of her head.

"No horns," she mutters, then she checks her back side, "and no tail. Whew just checking!" Then she scrambles up off the couch and screeches. "It feels so good to be solid again, and ohh vision …"

"We took care of that …"

"No. The one I'm having right now. There is a young man in a park in Glendale. Uh, somewhere near a pond. There is a demon waiting for him. He's red with four, no make that five horns."  
Angel looks at the others then back at Cordy.

"Uh, Cordy?" Angel says watching her.

"What, why are you guys looking like I sprouted horns … **did I**?"

"No, but you are flouting a foot from the ground," Wesley remarks, calm and collected as always.

 _ **"What?!"**_

 ***** Sunnydale January 28, 2002 *****

He is getting **married** – in the middle of May. Anya wants a spring wedding and she wants to invite all his and her extended family and friends. That probably means Vengeance Demons on the bride's side. Perhaps he should ask Willow if there is some sort of ban spell of the word 'wish' because _yeah_ , if somebody wishes for something in that crowd, it'll be problematic.

Especially **now** , when they don't have Buffy; she **wasn't** supposed to die, she definitely wasn't supposed to become a **child** – she was supposed to save the world, be their friend and then they would've thrown a saving the world after party.

He doesn't know who or what he should blame for that … Monks for making Dawn into Buffy's sister are the prime candidates for it. They should have destroyed the Key.

 **End of story.**

He is lying on his back, on a bed, observing the ceiling; Anya is currently busy with a wedding planner, ever since he practically ran away from Casa del Summers. Away from the accusations that Tara lobbed at him, at them; he **didn't** want to **believe** her words.

But he **does** …and he really does not want to think about that, because if he did …

And …They are getting married. Him and Anya married, not right this instance but soon. This spring in fact, Anya already has a date for the event and everything; he'll need to see if that rent a tux store he used for Prom still exists.

And he does not know what he should **think** or even **feel** about **that**.

Him getting married. To Anya, former vengeance demon, sure he dreamed of scoring the girlfriend … preferably Buffy. Buffy never saw him that way though, which he gradually accepted. He **did**. With the occasional slip up, but he **did**.

 _"You're a whipping boy. Raised by mongrels and set on a sacrificial stone."_ That was what a very late, very much snake food, Snyder said to him in a dream, which he had after that spell they did that one time to let Buffy fight that Cyborg guy. Right before the First Slayer chick ripped his heart out.

It feels like all those things happened so long ago. Sometimes he wishes, BUT only in his thoughts, that he would dearly like to return to that 'ages ago to the good old days on the Hellmouth when things were simple, when Buffy was a hero like Spiderwoman or Wonder Woman' to rewind time, to say things he should, and to do things he didn't.

So many, _no_ , not really regrets, he didn't regret befriending Buffy, or helping her, or oh God saving her with CPR; it didn't burn so much for her to chose Angel … no, he thinks bitterly, that **still** bothers him. But if he is honest with himself, and when he has a cool head to actually stop and think, Angel being a vampire has nothing to do with his dislike of him.

Though now that he has Anya that is **mostly** a knee jerk reaction.

But back then, when he only settled on Cordelia, that didn't quell his attraction toward the blonde Slayer. He was just distracted with the Queen C, but not enough to not feel vindictive when in his jealous-hate of Angel.

When Angel lost his soul, that was more on the line of him thinking _'why him, and not me'_. Angelus was right in the hospital, yeah, as much as it pained him to admit it, but it was _more_ about **how** Angel **lost** his soul than that he did lose it. If not for that, he'd be just a run of the mill vampire. Though if he was only a friend to Buffy, Xander would have probably wanted to re-soul him too. Because Angel would be a friend then and not a **rival** ; hey he was a petty teen then. He **never claimed to be Saint Alexander the Great** – he is after all the normal one of the bunch. The support guy, the donuts guy, Willow's bestest bud and Buffy's as she put it; _'Xander-shaped friend'_ , who … well at the time, got his shots in.

And admittedly he did prick Buffy with _'you only want your boyfriend back'_ , unjustly; she **_never_** pushed Willow to cast the spell; Willow volunteered to cast it. In retrospect re-souling Angel was the proper choice, not that he saw it that way. No he did, he was just irked that Buffy still loved Angel, but really if it had been Anya or Willow … he would have been **exactly the same**.

It was not that soulless Angel targeted him, or Willow; no Angel was far more focused in tormenting Buffy with the taunting and then slipping away, before she could stake him. Oh how Xander would've liked for that to actually happen, but Angel was slippery and stayed in the shadows – watching and waiting and stalking Buffy.

And then there was all that mess with Acathla – he rubs his face, now that still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Not the part where he didn't tell Buffy about the spell being recast by Willow. It's not that Buffy knew that Willow would disregard Buffy's wish and cast the re-souling spell anyway.

But it was that he could've said so many better things than _'Willow says kick Angel's ass'_ but that just flew out of his mouth and then he could not take it back. Even then he felt bad, and more awful still when Buffy didn't show up the following days and soon weeks. And when he heard that Mrs. Summers kicked her out in a moment of anger … yeah, he really wished that his last words to Buffy were not _'kick his ass'_.

Maybe then she'd stayed and not have felt abandoned so much that she had to leave, if he said something more encouraging, like _'it'll be fine, good luck'_ or _'don't worry I believe in you'_ or _'you will win this and then we'll party'_ or _'I'll take care of Giles, you win this'_.

Or if he'd waited outside Crawford mansion, for Buffy to came out. Giles was hurt yes, but he had no life threatening injuries. She could have easily waited for her name to be cleared in Giles's apartment, and then they'd make Mrs. Summers see reason…like they did, but Buffy would be with them, **not living** in cartoon box in some back alley in LA.

When she came back on her own, he was glad, but also a bit worried, what if that message came out? Willow would be upset, Buffy would be upset; he did not want that, so he stayed away.  
The zombie attack pretty much washed away any bad, and awkward stuff between them all, and Buffy's life in LA and the whole Angel affair was forgotten and not mentioned again. She was back with them, where she belonged, so all was right in his book.

All was good. Then Dead Boy came back. Xander was worried that they'd be all over each other … because he'd do it in Angel's place. So he told Faith, and immediately regretted it, that was why he followed her. Fortunately Angel was not dusted. That was good. After that, he tolerated Angel.

Sort of. Well enough **to not mind** Buffy going after Faith for the cure.

Faith was evil at the time. She shot White Hat; she needed to be dealt with and Buffy was the only one who could defeat Faith. If the defeat, her blood, would enable another to fight the good fight so be it.

Buffy would do it for any of them if they were poisoned. And if Angel wasn't; who knows who Faith would have poisoned instead.

If she'd shot Willow, **he'd have killed her** ; she would not live through that night, he knows that. Heck Oz would probably help. And even the Slayer is not bullet proofed.  
It was a hard road, but his feelings shifted, over the years, from romantic ones to seeing Buffy as sort of a little sister slash friend that needs his protection and nourishment – his Slay Gal. Just like his Willow – the Witchy Girl.

Cordelia already left Sunnydale so she wasn't one of his girls any more. Was she? She didn't call; she didn't even send a Christmas card last December. Queen C through and through, but then she didn't even thank him after getting her that Prom dress.

He knows that he loves Anya. But sometimes he thinks that she is just too much. That he is not ready to commit to her.

Will committing to her mean abandoning **his** other girls?

"Hey Xander look at this; Buffy can be the Flower Girl, in her own little dress, oh that is perfect." Anya leans over his vision, showing him a Wedding magazine with a glossy picture of little girls in pink, with roses in their hair, throwing flower petals before a white dressed bride.

"Yeah An, you are right." He sighs.

"Soo, you better make up with Tara so that Buffy will be our Flower Girl, mister."

That he intended to do for a while now. He knows that Tara got a guidance counselor job at the newly built High school, where Amanda and Cassie and her boyfriend Mike, or was it Pike, go. Also that coma kid that Buffy helped who could make nightmares real joined their group. _Aww the Scrappy Gang has arrived._

"Yep, I will to that, right now." He stands up and Anya beams and kisses him.

"Ohh, want me to go with you? But I still have a lot of dresses to see …"

"Ahh An, you do know I am a groom and I can't see your wedding dress."

"Right, it is bad luck … you go now, and when you came back … wear this as a blindfold."

"Right."

 ********

"So this is Amy's house," he mutters when he comes to the nice suburb home, with a garden, and a swing in the back.

"Hello," he suddenly hears behind him. Xander jumps and whirls around to see a middle-aged man and woman standing behind him. OK daylight so not vampires. That's good; they can still be demons though.

"Hi, err I'm visiting," he says, the older couple watching him warily. OK, probably human people in the know about the wildlife around here.

"Amy, are you **visiting** our daughter young man?" the guy asks him pointedly.

"I'm engaged to be married so no," he blurts, warding them off. "I'm here to see …" he starts to say when two blurs pass him.

"Mr. Madison, Miss Harness, welcome back, did you enjoy the opera in LA." Buffy prettily jumps around them along with big wolf like black dog; goodness but he had grown big since he saw it last.

"Tamarina, dear, calm down." Mr. Madison smiles. "And it's Uncle Paul and Aunt Briar. Now Amy, Daniel, and Tara are home, yes?"

Xander sees Buffy nod, but he is distracted by a powerful tug on his pants; he looks down and sees teeth and two glowing red eyes.

"Ack." He jumps away … and he can see the gaping maw widening into a doggy smile, accompanied with short snorting noises. The mutt is **laughing** at him.

"Benji, come here," he hears Buffy call as she runs back to the house. Mutt spares him another glow-y red look, before the red fades into a normal dog eye color and he turns and trots after Buffy.

"Dad! Briar! Welcome home." And Amy walks out of the house, closely followed by Tara. "You came just in time for lunch; did you know that Oz can cook a mean steak?!"

Of course he does, Xander thinks, after all he goes all furry every month.

"Xander, why are you here?"

At Tara's voice he turns to face her. "Tara, you look good."

"Did Willow send you?"

"No, Willow doesn't know, look can we talk? It's about my wedding with Anya." He explains to Tara, Amy's dad and stepmom and Amy.

"Well if it's about the wedding, why don't you come inside with us, Xander," Mr. Madison says, slapping him on the back, so that Xander stumbles a little at the unexpected friendly slap.

He looks up at the older man, who is smiling a friendly smile at him. "Huh?"

"You were classmates with my daughter; I saw your picture in yearbook."

"You have our yearbook?" Xander asks wondering; if he remembers correctly, at the time those photos were taken Amy was already a rat.

"Yes," Amy nods, confirming his thoughts, did she read his mind?! "Even if I am not in it, neither is Buffy for that matter."

"She **isn't**?" he yelps in surprise. "What, **why**?"

Amy shrugs. "Don't know and she is not around to ask." And with that Amy enters her parents' house, leaving him momentarily distracted on the threshold.

Now that is so wrong, and immediately he grows angry at that thoughtless comment. They saved Amy from her evil witch of a mother. And then … all right he did blackmail her to cast that love spell that backfired….

 *****Madison house - living room*****

"So what are you, some kind of a warlock, or a wizard, or a knight, or male equivalent of a Slayer, or a Werewolf like Daniel?"

"No,'m just a normal Joe."

"You sound disappointed." Miss Briar Harness's voice is … Xander can not describe the emotion behind it, wary, maybe?

"They'll never know **how tough** it is, Miss Harness. To be the one **who isn't** chosen; to live so near the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes, 'cause nobody's watching me."

"But did you stop and **think** , to see, how it is for **them**? To have **no choice** , to be chosen, to have a world on their shoulders?" she interrupts him; "You can see **what** they are, what powers they are given, but **not** what it **costs** them to have those same powers."

"I know Paul had valid concerns since Amy inherited her mother's magical aptitude. To be wary of magic. But getting to know Tara and her daughter" Xander can not help but bristle at that. Buffy **is not** Tara's daughter, he almost says, but he manages to stay quiet, mostly because Amy threatens to turn him into a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach, through telepathy.

"Trough Tara teaching Tamarina, Amy as well as Paul and myself, we are exposed to a more gentle magical environment, and have a different opinion on magic now; one with no connection to Catharine."

Mr. Madison nods. "I admit, when Amy came back," he squeezes Amy's hand, Xander saw when he said that, and gets an answering squeeze in return. "I was afraid of her, and her admitting that she can use magic only made it worse."

"I'm sure my comment of erasing your memories of me missing, didn't help either."

"No it didn't."

"Sorry daddy, I was just …"

"Afraid, just as I was." Mr. Madison turns back to Xander. "But then we started talking, with Tara as a go between, and seeing how Tara is with her own child …"

"Ouch, Amy why did you kick me!"

"You wanted to make a snide comment!"

"Did **not**."

"Hissing Roach, Xander."

"Besides," Oz steps into the Casa Del Madison's living room. "We did explain the familiar relationships, between all that live here. And legally Tamarina is Tara's biological daughter. Let it go, man. You can't change it and neither can Willow, I thought you realized that."

"…" Xander is speechless, and then his shoulders slump, like a large weight is placed on them. "Yeah I did. I accepted that Buffy is gone after I found out the spell didn't work."

 *****Night of 28th of January*****

Spike is standing by the corner of 1st Main Street, his bike parked beside him with two shotguns strapped to the seat. He rolls his cigarette between his teeth, smirking in anticipation for the fight to come; the alarm the witches set up at the _'Welcome to Sunnydale'_ sign went off a half an hour ago.

So they all saddled up, Amanda pretty much handed them the shotguns, much to the irritation of Giles. The Watcher was so flustered that he nearly broke his glasses polishing them so hard. Little bit, her dog, Tara and Amy were with armed to the teeth Paul and Briar in the Madison's house.

But those that will fight are grouped with three people per group and are charged with covering the streets, where they know the Hellions will drive into town. A plus though is that apparently people's awareness of danger kicked in and there were no Happy Meals with legs walking around.  
He tilts his head to the side when he hears the rumbling of motors.

The Hellions have arrived.

 ***** Crossroads, between 4th Main Street and Market street*****

Giles is watching from his car, Xander sitting beside them, and Willow and BuffyBot in the back. Anya is in the Magic Box with Oz and his friends; they had to insure that their place for research came out of this intact.

"Oi Band of Merry Bunch," comes Spike's voice through the Walkie-talkie, "Hellions are here. And I'm going in as soon as they all pass me …. Anddddddddddd show time!"

They can hear shots being fired, and they grab their weapons, shotguns forgotten in the back of the car. They are armed as usual, axes, bats and crossbows.

 *****State street*****

Amanda, Cassie, and Mike are all on the roof of Stacy's gym, taking shots at demons, who are running down both sides of the street, setting fires … until they get shot for their vandalism by the trio on the roof.

 *****4th Main street*****

They have to retreat to Rudkin Factory, since they are quickly overrun; it proves problematic, shooting with crossbows at the fast moving bikers. So they have no choice but to retreat to safer, more appropriate area for hand to hand combat. BuffyBot engages the demons, but at the moment the Bot is cut off from the rest of them and surrounded by Bikers, who are circling the Bot like sharks, smelling blood in the water.

"Ohh great," Xander groans, "a demonic Mad Max biker gang wannabe." The apparent leader, Giles believes that he heard the other demons refer to him as Razor, steps closer to the Bot.

"Slayer. I've been hearing interesting things about you," he says while dismounting and getting closer to the Bot. Giles can see that the demon is watching the Bot closely.

"Willow, why does she pause when opponent initiates conversation?"

"Well, I wanted her to be all quippy, to be exactly like Buffy …"

"Delete that program, Willow," Giles cuts through her explanation. "It just exposes the bloody robot to a close quarter attack."

"Yes," the Bot says, "I am interesting. Are these your friends?"

"They're my guys, yeah," Razor answers coming even closer. Giles frowns; why does the Bot just stand there blinking? All right he did believe that Miss Newton told the truth, but he still has hope that the ruse of an experienced successful Slayer is standing in their path will deter the Hellions.

"Good. Tell them to get on their loud bicycles and go back to wherever they came from …"

"Bloody hell, she is giving them a bloody lecture instead of quips, Willow."

"I'm sorry, OK, Giles. Oh goddess, ohh goddess..." Willow starts to hyperventilate; Giles whips his head around just in time to see BuffyBot falling back into a group of demons.

"Or what? You'll electrocute us?" Razor's voice sends a chill down Giles's spine.

"Giles what do we do?"

"Nothing. Stay put."

"I can do a spell."

"Stay PUT," he hisses and gives both young people a quelling look. "Xander use this contraption to inform the other teams that the Hellions took over the 4th Street." He rattles on while he watches BuffyBot struggling when she is restrained by two demons. Razor then raises his hand to reveal that he has claws that sprang from his fingers and slashes BuffyBot deeply across the chest.

"No," Willow stands up, but Giles grabs her and pushes her back into a sitting position.

"You can repair the damage later. We are safe here, outside you'll get killed."

"You're nothing but a toy. A pretty toy ... do you want to play pretty toy?" They return their attention back outside. Willow is rocking back and forth, Giles notices, and to his relief she has turned away from the window.

"Oh wow, Buffy just kneed Freddy Kruger, and she is free …" Xander comments.

"I would, but you injured me. I have to report to Willow." Giles hears the robot say. And he really hopes that Bot won't lead the demons in her search for repair straight to their hiding place. He sighs when it takes off running away from the factory.

"Get It!" Razor bellows.

"She is not an It, you poophead," Willow growls.

"Willow - I need service!" is the last words Giles hears before the air vibrates from the shouts and roars of the engines as the Hellions drive after the fleeing robot.

 *******

"When Spike learns that the 4th street was taken, he rolls his eyes in expiration at the Watcher's team. Hellions are one of the rare cases where modern weaponry is more effective than traditional. No wonder they lost 4th Street. Shrugging off, he begins whistling a tune and takes any valuables from dead bodies; then he gets on the best bike he can find and roars down the street to cut down the rest of the Hellions.

Amanda's group reaction … it went pretty much the same.

 ***** Madison residence*****

Tara is shaking her head. When a Hellion tried to torch their house, he was transformed into a rat by Amy for his trouble; the others are shot down by Briar and Paul, while Buffy and she reload for them.

Tara herself made barrier crystals, that erected a barrier on the house walls, windows, and doors, if it so happens that they miss and the Hellions are close to entering this house.

 *****Nearing 4th street*****

Anya is looking around, ducking into an alley when she hears an engine revving nearby, and nearly having a heart attack when coming face to face with Oz and Jinan.

"Was that necessary? A simple _"psst"_ would've been better," she snaps quietly.

"You should not be here," Oz says, deadpanning.

"Shussh," Jinan hisses and all three duck deeper into the shadows.

"Just saying, it's rank!" they hear one of the Hellions complain.

"Get off it, Klyed," growls the other.

"I'm just saying Mag, Razor and the others take off for town, leave us here to hunt strays. It's …urk!" Klyed claws at Mag's hand that is holding him by the throat.

"Hey! You got a bug up your crack, take it up with Razor. Until then, you do what he says and shut your hole. Before I rip you a new one," Mag threatens him and the releases Klyed, then Mag scans their surroundings again, takes a whiff of air, like a dog searching for prey …

"Screw this. Let's get outta here."

"No you are not," Spike says, and suddenly both demons crumble, their necks snapped by Spike and Amanda respectfully.

"Oi Wolf, Demon Girl, Whelps Squeeze come out of the corner will ya!"

 *****Crossroads of Sycamore street and 2nd Main street*****

Spike is watching the cheering demons, while waiting for the others to circle about; both Oz and Anya are holding their own shotguns while they are gaining on the position to get all Hellions in one big crossfire.

"This here is a momentous occasion." The head demon, who the cheering crowd calls Razor, says. Yeah, Spike thinks, very imaginative.

"The beginning of a new era. Now, no question that the open back roads and highways have been good to us, but we got ourselves a juicy little burg just ripe for picking..."

The cheers drown out his next words, and that was fine; it was a crappy speech anyway. The four bikers that are on bikes and not in the cheering crowd start their engines, and there is a rattle of chains.

"And I ain't in any hurry to leave. Are you?" Razor continues. Spike pumps the shotgun in preparation. "Yeah, you will love it here, to bits," he mutters and steps forward, the others mimicking him.

 ****25th of May 2002 Hotel Room somewhere in Sunnydale after Stag night, morning on the wedding day****

"Oh God damn it," Xander groans.

He is going to die.

He knows it and from what?

A damn hangover.

"Shut it sooding whelp," came a hiss from … Spike? What is Spike doing in his room?  
"It is hotel room, after party, man."

That is Oz, Xander coughs and almost pukes on the floor or worse on himself, his head pounds and spin; he feels sick like he'll throw up his own stomach in the next minute.

What in the Hellmouth did he drink last night, day … _what_ time is it and what day!?

"Oi, Wanker Harris, when you talk, turn away; your breath stinks like a group of skunks had an orgy in there."

"Not helping, Spike."

"What you didn't smell him wolf?"

Oz shrugs, and then ducks his nose into the high collar of his shirt. "Eucalyptus oil."

"Oh that helps." Spike nods wisely, and Xander has a distinct impression that Spike hadn't been joking, and that is one skunk imaginary could do without.

"I'm feeling the love here," he grouses, and wow is that his voice? He'll never get drunk again; it's not worth it.

Spike hauls him up by the collar of his shirt. "Come on, I'll get you home because I am feeling nice. How lucky you are."

"Dunno if I should feel relieved about it."

"That is because I'll already have my fun with you."

 ** _How_** ominous . 

*****Sunnydale –May Sunday 25th, same time, Anya's room*****

 _ **Wedding  
The Bride: **Anya  
 **Bridesmaids:** Tara, Willow, Halfrek, Bay, Amy, Cassie, (and) Amanda  
 **Witness for the bride:** Spike  
 **The person that gives her away:** Giles  
 **Flower girls: **Tamarina and Karen****_

Tara is looking at the list, Willow fidgeting near her, like a startled hummingbird.

"Okay, I'm going to say it, I know that bridesmaids should not outshine the bride, but this is ridiculous," Amy says, while watching her reflection. Tara supposes Amy is right; they are dressed in hideous chartreuse bridesmaid dresses with puffy sleeves. Well that color and general mermaid style part isn't so bad, it just fitted badly.

"Well, it is from good material." Briar looks them over, "If I tuck the ends, to make them more fitting at the top, and I have the same material, in slightly darker shade that would work as a belt to give all of you a waist line …"

"Can you do it? I mean we don't have much time …"

"I have the sashes with me and a needle and thread; I can do it."

"You are the best stepmom ever."

"Thank you, Amy." With that Briar walks out, to get the items needed to adjust their dresses. Which are not too bad, but yeah, not very flattering.

"Oh," at Anya's voice Tara turns around just in time to be hugged by Anya in her fluffy white bathrobe. "You guys look so beautiful."

They don't look hideous or too bad … but beautiful?

"This is the happiest day of my life," Anya says, hugging harder. Well it will be, Tara thinks, even with the slight corrections to their dresses fitting them more.

 *****Mrs. Harris and Mr. Harris house *****

Xander manages all right, Spike drove him. He kinda feels jealous at Spike shrugging off the hangover just like that. Though he has sneaky suspicion that he drank far more than Spike.  
In fact he vaguely remembers Spike passing him his own glass, and then kept pouring alcohol into both glasses and Xander remembers drinking from both.

Spike made him drunk, dead drunk, as in Xander doesn't remember what happened after a certain point. … And God knows what else Spike did to him; he does feel something itchy on his butt and lower back.

He needs a shower; perhaps Spike put some demonic version of itching powder down his pants. He wouldn't put it past the chipped Captain Peroxide, Xander thinks as he squints against the harsh light of day, as he heads towards his parents' house.

"Ahh Xander finally."

"Cousin Carol?"

"Yes, yes, we need to get you ready, hurry, hurry." She ushers him aggressively up the stairs into the guest room, where he was staying before his wedding.

And where he had that brilliant stupid idea to spend his Stag night with his relatives and Spike together … oh it was fine while he had root beer in hand, but after that came the Jägerbombs, tequila shots and some clear liquid, like water, with a lemon.

"Do I have time to take a quick shower, cousin Carol?"

"A very quick one. Let me help you get this off …"

"Cousin Carol …"

"Oh please don't be such a prude, your tush is not the only tushy I have seen, though interesting tattoo you have there."

" **What!** What tattoo!?"

"It says **_'Propriety of Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins, if found return to the owner'_**."  
"Spike," he growls, and then marches off to have a long hot shower and plan revenge on the peroxide asshole.

 *****20 minutes later*****

Xander is now dressed in his tuxedo pants, dress shoes, and an unbuttoned dress shirt with undone French cuffs. His hair is still wet from that quick shower, but it is warm, so his hair should dry soon anyway. He feels better too, and he brushed his teeth and took breath mints…a lot of them.

He flinches when his cousin Carol cleans his face with a rag, "What? You had shaving cream around your ears."

"Um thanks."

"Don't mention it, now where was I …"

"That it's all about pain and loss? Is that not a bit pessimistic?"

"No, no, no. I'm saying it wrong. I'm not saying you kids shouldn't get hitched. I'm just saying don't build castles on the sand. Cuz that's when life hits you with the big sack of crap and your heart breaks like a china doll."

"Thanks, Carol," he says, sheepishly. He really hopes his marriage won't turn out the same as Cousin Carol's or his parents' or uncle Rory's…

"Next thing you know, you're trying to find a man who will date a divorcee with a kid. Guess what? No such animal," Carol rants while helping him with the cuffs, and then he feels her stop.  
"I hope you don't think you're wearing that."

He looks up to see Carol's ten year old daughter in jeans and a pajama top, Keren. He winces; the last thing he needs is for his kid relative to suffer an asthmatic attack like she did during rehearsal, and she is a flower girl…or now the rice girl, since the petals caused the attack in the first place.

"Hey, Karen!" He waves at the girl. "How are you; let's get you breakfast mkay?" With that he heads toward the kitchen, Carol and Keren close behind.

 ** _To be continued …_**  
The next chapter starts to slowly pull the two groups together. After the wedding stuff and couple of other things.  
LA group (Wes, Connor and Agnes) and SunnyD group (Tara, Spike, Oz, Amy and Buffy – not counting Miss Kitty Fantastico and Benji) and things are starting to move. 

**  
Agnes nicknamed Aggie, was a human psychic and an old friend of Lorne's. She appeared in episode "Over the Rainbow"**

 *** "Needs musts" that Whistler says to Agnes.-fuller form - needs must when the devil drives. that is, if the devil is driving you, you have no choice. Meaning of the phrase:  
Necessity compels. In current usage this phrase is usually used to express something that is done unwillingly but with an acceptance that it can't be avoided; for example, I really don't want to cook tonight, but needs must, I suppose.**

 **Lyric that Agnes sings are "Know Who You Are" a song of the Disney animated feature Moana. It is sung by Moana while knowing the truth about Te Kā.  
**(Ou mata e matagi)  
I have crossed the horizon to find you  
(Ou loto mamaina toa)  
I know your name  
(Manatu atu)  
I may have stolen the heart from inside you  
(Taku pelepele)  
But this does not define you  
(Manatu atu)  
This is not who you are  
You know who you are**

 ** **-_-Fun Facts:****

 **No.1** : Yes Gramma Moana of Agnes is from Disney movie 'Moana'. That kind of sprang up when I saw picture of Moana and had BtVS Wiki Page of Agnes Bellfleur, and then I thought huh there is vague resemblance and puff look plot bunny hopping away. That spawned two chapter story about how Agnes got Moana as grandma – BUT that is for later, like year 2017 later.

 **No.2** : As you know there are now two lines of Slayers. Amanda – and yes that Amanda from the last season of BtVS episode "Potential", who is First of her line and Faith who is latest Chosen One of the old line.

 **No.3** Buffy's status in Slayer line is pretty much out of the picture, her death would not call another …she is more like Connor now. Whatever power she has wired in her body is now hereditary.

 **No.4:** I did take some fan fiction writer license in changing some of 'Moana' trivia: In movie Motunui is an island, here in fic it's the name for whole dimension (or planet or world). And Moana's surname of Waialiki is used for a name of the island. No.5: Maemae is the name that was given to Agnes at birth, it means '"pure"' or '"holy"' in Hawii, the same meaning that name "Agnes" has. The surname comes in joining of two French words, belle (beauty) and fleur (flower).


End file.
